i don’t think we need to know someone loves us,
i think we need to know they love us enough -Â
 - enough to stay when it gets tough;
 - enough to sit with us in the er, at the doctor’s office, in bed at night when air in our lungs feels like fire and breathing is the world’s most difficult challenge;
 - enough to watch us sleep, and eat, and work and just exist, because our very existence is a form of magic and they want to see our being unfold, a painting painting itself, even on days when the artist is not present;
 - enough to listen to the stories we’ve already told and laugh at the same jokes, enough to tell us they love us - over and over again, because words do not become worn out if you speak them right;
 - enough to hold our hand when it is sweaty and look at rashes on our skin, enough to accept the not-pretty because they see so much fucking beauty surrounding it;
 - enough to not hurt us, to choose us some days and other days to pretend they have, pretend well and lie well and sometimes dishonesty is a greatest kindness you can give to a human being,
 - enough,
 - enough for us to feel safe and loved, and the thing is
 - enough is different for everyone, for some people it takes an ocean, vastness to be immersed into, for others it takes a river - direction and current and a sense of being taken away, and for a few, a few hiding in plain sight, it takes rain - some days we need a drizzle, others a shower that soaks the ground, and sometimes we need drought - to become again desert, sand and sun and scorched ground, to go back to the earth we came from, to breathe in air that feels like fire and exhale flames.
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