“I needed help.”- I’d said,
And when you told me you understood-
I had to take a deep breath in my mom’s kitchen because my nervous system told me I’d get hit,
My nervous system lies to me a lot these days.
We don’t live there anymore and it still hasn’t caught up.
And you came home from work and kissed my forehead-
You’d brought my favorite pizza with a side of calm,
I wiped the tired from my eyes and felt the stress melt from me when you hugged me.
There’s not much your cologne doesn’t solve these days.
Sometimes I wonder if you know that the man who came before you prepared me for this-
Taught me to trust gentleness in ways I hadn’t for years,
It’s a work in progress but he dug the dirt so I could build the foundation with you.
I’m grateful for it despite the grief-
And you don’t make me pretend it never happened.
Our relationship is pretty transparent-
You handle things in the kind of calm manner that settles my soul,
The angry daughter finally found a man calm enough to handle her without destroying her autonomy.
I prayed for this.
You told me you understood-
And I took a deep breath in my mom’s kitchen because suddenly I realized that I don’t have to anticipate punishment.
Asking for help doesn’t put me in danger anymore.
