You said I was too much.
She says I’m just right.
You gave me months of silence.
She gives me three calls a night.
You needed time to “find yourself.”
She found me without a map.
You curled up next to fear.
She fell asleep in my lap.
You rationed your affection.
She drowns me in her need.
You treated love like leverage.
She treats it like we both breathe.
You wanted space to “heal”.
She pressed against my chest.
You hid behind your mother’s voice.
She whispers, “God, I love the rest.”
We’ve got a four-bedroom house
with a pool off Frisco Rd and I-40.
She used to sit behind you in English
and told me you were always a little too proud.
Now she’s barefoot in the kitchen,
wearing your old friend’s grin —
and I don’t miss the weight
you used to pull me under in.
She’s not half your age —
but she’s twice the woman
you ever let yourself become.
And she’s starting to show 😉