You need to be made of sterner stuff, dear, before you can be ready to build a life with someone you love.
Love is not always lounging on a queen-sized bed during the weekends and making coffee the way she likes it. There will be days when the coffee spills and she’s late for work, and nights when you refuse to sleep on the same bed, just to prove a point. There will be times when you’ll do the opposite of what she tells you not to, just to get a rise out of her, and times you’ll be so frustrated with her stoic silence, you’d want to wring her neck.
No one ever said love was easy, but it’s also a rarity to find someone willing to dive into the darkness with you, and glide through the thoughts that cripple, and the words that ruin if you let them. All the things you sweep under the rug and never talk about unless the rug is bunching up already, you can’t hide the dust mound any longer.
I am telling you now, it would be the stormiest night before our dawn
And hardships would be twice the load of normal
I know all these things before they even come
What I want to know now is am I made of sterner stuff?
And are you?
I would need unlimited supply of patience and compassion to make room for you,
To reassure you every day that my love doesn’t end in the words I write,
It fights to live in moments when to trust is to risk everything we’ve known
And meet the aftermath, hands clasped together
But I’m your poison apple, your weakness, they’d whisper into your ear,
The one thing that’ll ruin your ambition
And with little thought you’d drop me like a hot potato on asphalt
I wouldn’t know what hit me before I got up
If you can’t be strong on your own, might as well be content to tell yourself, yes I love her, but I’m not brave enough to build my love a home. Then let go. Release it to the wind. Instead of fumbling around in a playhouse of sticks that crumbles at the slightest pull.