How can we be sure of anything
the tide changes.
The wind that made the grain wave gently yesterday
blows down the trees tomorrow.
And the sea sends sailors crashing on the rocks,
as easily as it guides them safely home.
I love the sea
but it doesn’t make me less afraid of it
I love you
but I’m not always sure of what you are
or how you feel.
Vulnerable, frightening, and painful. That's what love can be.
But love is also the friend who wakes up when you come shivering home from work early, nauseated and feverish. Love is the warmth of the two blankets she covers you with and the nourishment of the chicken bone both soup she makes you before going back to bed herself.
Thanks, Bekah. You're an angel.