I wanted you to be so much.
I wanted you to be my memory of happy days when mine forsake me, soft hands when mine were weak.
I wanted you to be my friend, my greatest ally, my rock and my truth. I wanted you to be there where I’d let no one else be.
I wanted you to be my muse, my inspiration and my fan. I wanted you to be my fire, my voice when mine was still.
I wanted you to be my heaven. My dream. My hope. My peace. I wanted you to show me myself when I’d wandered too far in to you.
I wanted you to be my priority. To feel cherished and loved and adored. I wanted you to feel I was there every time and that I’d never, ever leave you.
I wanted you to be happy. To be free and to glow. To love your body as much as I did and to see in your eyes what I saw the first time. I wanted you to love yourself just half as much as I loved you.
I wanted you to walk at the side of your father’s memory down an aisle and have your hand where others had not. I wanted you to want to wear white and to flow with the magic from which you were made. To go on to create more, in honor and in awe.
I wanted you to feel wanted. To feel safe and to feel joy. I wanted you to never look back and to go sleep wondering how life could ever get better—and to be amazed when it did.
I wanted you to be in my arms as stars spun spells above us. As leaves whispered love songs and waves made love with sands.
I wanted you to see my heart from side to side and through and through. To know my worries and fight them not, but see that my love came from the same place as yours and to feel its power.
I wanted to be happy. To not ponder before speaking. To be free to be me and not ever bite my tongue. I wanted to be seen if only by you, but seen nonetheless and held in my brokenness.
But most of all, my foolhardy heart wanted all of you for all of me.
And I knew from the start that I couldn’t settle for less.
So it wasn’t you or our love that broke me in the end.
It was my being suicidally blind with a hopeful heart filled with optimism for us that finally severed me clean.
But the one thing I’m left with that I’ll never regret is that I broke me on you. And there’s no more beautiful a way to turn a boy into a man.
Author: Andy Charrington
Editor: Alli Sarazen