love letters for her
living in love
I still choose you, day after day — that’s where I am.
Our black morning coffee is steaming. I sit. You hand it to me softly, touch my wrist, and I see your eyes surveying; they’re as brown and wide as the Park Lake we live on, and I know they’re saying — I love you.
I love you, too, even while I struggle with my anxiety.
I love you despite bringing my past trauma and suffering into this thing we call love.
I love you even while I attempt to run away from something I can’t see.
I love you even as I try to…