This is a love poem.
My heart is filling with memories and hope and they are quivering, vibrating down through my veins to my nails and pouring out through my thumbs like my tongue would release if it were not midnight in a quiet house on a Tuesday.
There is love in every room. There is pain as well undersurface and under skin but there are hugs and kind words and bonds and they are a hell of a lot more useful than one might think when it comes to not feeling like you are nothing.
There is promise of tomorrow and even more to find, more to discover and learn and I wouldn't trade a single day of this adventure for a solid mediocre normal because I rather enjoy making my own.
Even on bad days, real bad days love sneaks in somehow and curls up next to me on the couch until I don't want to sulk any more and when I hit those points where I am crying too hard to breathe it rubs my back and brings me a crumpled tissue.
I will never be able to understand it fully--there is always another side