You have been mine from the moment I held my Baby Tender Love in the back of Mrs. Womble’s kindergarten room.
You were alive before you were born, a little wish from the whispers of a five-year-old who had no idea what she was asking for, but knew you were exactly what she wanted one day.
You have always been mine.
I sang your song before I knew you.
I loved your voice before it was formed.
I held your hand in mine every single time I dreamed.
I waited for you.
Now you are mine and I have to let you go one day.
You are my always, my forever, my breath, the clock by which I start each day and end each night.
You are the reason nothing else and everything matters.
I never knew that someone else’s tears could drown me.
With you I feel the edges of existence.
With you I walk on tightropes of hope.
With you I hear the world turn.
I have thunder in my veins when you need me.
My feet are winged when you call.
I am your thread from place to place.
I am because you made me.
I saw you and nothing else remained.
It was always you.