"Is That Your Boyfriend"

She asked me today

When she saw my story on social media,

“Is that your boyfriend?”

And she was reasonable to ask.

She came to me often,

wondering about my love life,

and even if she saw me three times in a week,

something new was always happening.

It was only in her nature to ask

And only in mine to provoke the need for clarification.

“Yea,”

I chuckled

“That’s my boyfriend.”

She hadn’t seen me for a few months,

so she asked another reasonable, yet rudely phrased question.

She asked, in all sincerity:

“Which one is he?”

Now, she meant this to mean:

“What makes him different?”

but the question caught me off guard.

I knew what made him different to me,

But she’s heard me tell countless stories

Of the people who were “different,”

And yet, didn’t last long.

I could tell her about his soul,

And his kindness,

and about his beautiful eyes,

But to her, it would all sound the same.

So I took a deep breath,

gained some composure,

and cooly responded:

“This one?

“Well, this is the one that I almost missed.

“This is the one that I took for granted for months,

“The one that I called when things went wrong, but not when things went right,

“This is the one that waited for me,

“When I didn’t see the value in waiting myself,

“And I love him for it.”

She looked confused,

as I somewhat expected,

“If he was the one you needed, why did you let him wait?”

I didn’t know exactly what to say at first.

He was my dry land in the storm,

holding an umbrella and a light,

waiting patiently for me to come to him,

when I was too busy standing in the rain,

and trying to figure out a way to not get him wet.

And yet, in all that time,

He still had an umbrella.

He had spent the time drying off,

and staying dry,

becoming a place I could be safe,

and I was still dancing in the rain,

being reckless, and free,

but soaked to the bone,

and eventually he would have to go inside,

and eventually, I would have to dry off.

I didn’t know how to tell her this,

But I figured this was close enough:

“Sweetheart,

“no matter how broken you are,

“there will always be someone that is willing to love you.

“But eventually,

“you will come to realize that that person

“deserves more than a broken pile.

“And the only thing to do

“is walk away, leaving them to find someone better,

“or turn yourself into someone worth loving.”

“I knew he deserved better,

“So, I finished my frolicking,

“dried off my body,

“and became better,

“And now, we can get out of the storm together.”

Forget the rain.

We’ll watch the storm from inside the house,

And together, we’ll be safe,

and warm,

and dry,

and that’s all that matters now.