Relephant: How to Make Friends with all of Your Sweet Self: Maitri.
I deserve a lover who opens my book, thumbs my pages, and reads my soul.
A lover who gets my central theme, my essence, a lover undaunted by plot twists, and messy parts, and devastation, and big words, and funny bits.
I deserve a lover who brings me coffee with toast and fruit, who kisses me awake with his own coffee mouth and whispers the answers to all my questions, the ones I ask with my eyes.
I deserve a lover who is willing to bathe me when my arms don’t work, when my legs buckle, when I’m weak, when I’m too sad to even wash my face, when there is pain in my head and bricks on my lap and sand bags tied to my feet.
I deserve a lover who loves my body, every inch, who blankets me, who covers my heart with his heart, who rests his cheek on my cheek, one who would weave himself into my flesh, if only he could.
I deserve a lover who is careful with his way, with his words, but not careful at all when it comes to his kissing.
A lover who wantonly wants me, a lover hungry for me, who desires me exactly as I am, however I am, wherever I am.
I deserve a lover who balls up a snowball and chucks it straight at me when I’m bent over shoveling, a lover who makes me angry at first, but then makes me giggle and start whipping snowballs straight back at him, a lover who stops to have some fun—even when there’s work to be done.
I deserve a lover who defers to me and my opinion because he wonders “what would she think,” so he seeks it, my opinion, he values it and sometimes he even says, “Damn, girl, you are so right it’s ridiculous.”
I deserve a lover who pulls me from my towel, who says, “Baby, don’t fight it, you’re going in.” A lover who races me to the shoreline, who crashes and splashes, who pulls me close, who wraps his arms around me, who gasps for air alongside me, as we dive under again and again.
I deserve a lover who catches our baby from between my blood-soaked legs, a lover leaning in, right in, to a churning, wondrous, beautiful life. A lover who cradles our magic, our sweet screaming miracle, with a tired but astonished grin.
I deserve a lover who doesn’t want to change me, or rearrange me, a lover who tries in happy vain to solve my puzzle piece by curious piece.
I deserve a lover who dares to dream my impossible dreams. A lover who wishes my whimsical wishes, who holds my hand through our leaps of faith, who jumps and climbs and seeks what I’m seeking, blindly, without a map or information, or a compass, or any predetermined destination.
I deserve a lover who calls me out on my bullsh*t, who isn’t afraid to stand his ground, who knows that there is always more than one answer to find, who helps me see things differently before I humbly change my mind.
I deserve a lover who rubs my back and gives my feet a squeeze, who moves the hair off my cheek and puts it back behind my ears, who takes two seconds to offer a blessing when I sneeze.
A lover who brings me a homemade birthday card, dipped and dripping with lovely, thoughtful, sticky, sweet words, words that are heavy and light, delicious and right, making me crave every single syllable, every last bite.
A lover who stacks soup, crackers, and a spoon, and stemless, crispy grapes in dish, all washed and wet and glistening, on a tray, with tissues, all because, just because he wants me to feel better soon.
I deserve a lover who makes me laugh until my belly explodes and my bones hurt and my head throbs and my jaw aches and my mascara runs, and there is no sound, no sound at all coming from my mouth, because that’s how hard I am laughing.
I deserve a lover who can’t believe his luck. A lover who rolled the dice, spun the wheel, showed me his cards, played his hand, and went all in. A lover who knows he won it all—every last thing he could win.
This.
This is the lover I deserve.
Relephant:
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Copy Editor: Emily Bartran
Social Editor: Nicole Cameron
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