Real Love

I call her my friend,

but I’ve never been too good at choosing those.

Underneath sweet and friendly facades are words

that don’t sound much like love.

“Because I love you,

you must

bow to my will and

subject yourself to my every wish,

be who you are not,

do what you never would have.

Because I love you,

you should talk bad about your other friends,

even if it makes you feel guilty,

even if it’s not true.

Because I love you,

you will feel alone

and underappreciated,

taken from

but not given to.

Because I love you,

I will hand you all my problems on a silver platter

I know you can handle it,

I know you want to take them away.”

And because I love you, I will—

I will give and give

until there is none of me left.

This is not what love should be.

I didn’t know until now.

I didn’t need to choose him

because he chose me.

“Because I love you,

I will never want to change you,

even the parts you say are your flaws.

Because I love you,

I will let you have your space

and remind you that

other people,

other things,

matter more than me,

even if I don’t want them to.

Because I love you

I want a future for you,

and a future for me,

and one together if you are willing.

Because I love you,

my heart belongs to you—

there is no one else

I’d trust with it.

Because I love you,

I will tell you

every day

because it is the truest thing

I have to say;

I will show you how beautiful you are

in kisses

and lyrics,

in expressions

and touches,

in every way possible.”

Because I love you,

I will do the same.