Monday, February 03, 2014

To the Guy, After Eight Years

Eight years, can you believe it?
Eight years of living together.
Not quite all our adult lives
but nearly all our grown-up lives.
Does that mean I've never really grown up
since I've always had you to hold on to?
Eight years of moving in rhythm
of leaning on each other
not quite sure
where one leaves off
and the other begins.
Eight years without knowing
true loneliness or despair.
Of having a home.
Of being home.

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