I wonder how many things you say that you think are stupid but make me smile. I wonder how many times you chide yourself in your head while I’m smiling along to the luminous hum of your presence. I wonder how often you try to find some perceived twinge in my smiles. I wonder how often you wonder if I am anything less than joyous when I’m with you, because the answer is never.
I wonder if you lay awake at night calculating the deductions of misplaced words. I wonder if you groan just to release the disquiet you feel about a poorly placed joke. I wonder if you curse your defense mechanisms when they fire before aiming. I wonder if you damn your mortal imperfections the way I do, and if you seem to swelter in the coolness of my shade, like I do yours.
I wonder if it seems so easy for me, to you. I wonder if you miss the thorns on my barbed stem the way I seem to miss yours. By no means do I think you, or anyone, are perfect. Only that I feel like I’m running to catch up to your long stride. That I have a little ways to go before I can compare to your generous portions of grace, to your easy kindness, to your seldom grief. Only that I would like to be better for you in so many ways, and that I hope my interim is enough, I hope I get the chance.