Playing House

I feel whole when I dance, but I wish I could dance for you. Why can life be so simple when I dance but everything between us was so complicated? Why do I now have to carry the memories of a future that never happened? To come to an empty home that was supposed to be filled with us?

I want to cook for you and to wake up to you on the weekends. To watch you work on projects around the house and tell me I’m beautiful out of the blue. But instead of all that, you’re still a child and I’m alone. You showed a side of yourself that made a dream into a nightmare. No longer were you my knight in shining armor but my enemy who was out to hurt me.

Even though I was blind, my body wasn’t. Even though I still wanted to love you, my body couldn’t.

You’re still a little boy who doesn’t know how to love a woman. You just couldn’t be all the things I wanted you to be. So someday when you grow up and the next girl comes along don’t try to change her, change for her. Don’t put her down, lift her up. Don’t threaten to leave her when things get rough but pull her closer. Give her space when she asks and always respect her “no.”

As for me? I am learning that the only opinion I care about is the one from the one who stares back at me from the mirror. The only love I care about, and she deserves to be treated with respect. She deserves to be listened to and compromised with. She deserves to be taken care of and feel safe. Someday he who is capable of all this will come along and I will dance for him and he will wonder how he got so lucky. And you?

You will just be a memory that started a revolution of self discovery.