It still feels like yesterday.

You.

The newness.

The opposite of me. The something I was missing.

The unlimited craves. And the feels.

It’s real.

Looking at the moments that we share and make,

it’s a beautiful thing.

The unknown layers being seen.

The little things you do that aggravates me.

But yet,

I’m opening.

 

The peace in you has me spoiled.

Making me shed my inner insecurities.

You don’t make me a home for yours.

A better man, you say.

I believe you, baby.

My value to you speaks through everything.

Even during the times I can’t stand you.

And you can’t stand me.

When the blossom stage exits the building, and shit hits the fan.

And the real work begins.

The beauty is the good parts of me+you outweighs it all.

Through it all.

So yes,

I’m opening.

 

 

What is it?

I can’t put my finger on it.

You’ve got something I’ve been needing.

It hit me.

Unexpectedly.

Willingly.

Gently.

It was mutual that there was no regular in this.

My past trying to scare me saying I’m not ready for this.

I’m thankful you wasn’t scared of that shit.

Your hands were big enough to catch me.

 

I’m opening…

and baby, you’re my key.