“can i love you forever?” was all she asked
and in his response, there was silence
triggering her need to be adored
and worry because he could very well walk away.
“if you’re asking if you can love me forever
like a thing, a toy you find in the upstairs attic
or a photo of a memory from long ago,
my answer is no.
no one can or should
try to love someone forever.
when i think about love–the deepest kind and most profound–
it isn’t packaged nicely and tied up with ribbon.
it’s messy and you’re going to dislike me at times
and i want you to.
i want you to get upset at me
because it means i’ve done something wrong.
i want us to argue
because it means there’s still passion left
instead of complacency,
instead of caving into the other.
i don’t want the love you give to something inanimate
something you show fierce loyalty to
and then grow tired of it.
i want us to break each other out of our comfort zones
push the limits, test the boundaries
making us better people
by being together.
and you’re not always gonna like me for that.
we’re not always gonna get along.
but that’s honesty, that’s truth, that’s real
because after the silly spats we get into
it only makes the love we have
expand even bigger.”