I was mad at you.
Everything was unravelling.
I couldn’t find the love.

Then I opened the fridge.
There it was.
The two slabs of tofu and the block of Nimbin cheese.
Because you know that the groceries aren’t done, till I get my “naughty” bits.

Then I cracked the eggs.
You said to me, “shall I cook for you?”
There was the love.

Then we sat on the porch and laughed.
Amidst the tension.
Amidst the argument.
We found the space to laugh.
To let go.
There was the love.

Then I cried about the furniture.
Tired of living month to month.
Tired of waiting for the income to get steady.
I just wanted a damn couch.
And you said, “we’ll get the furniture done”.
There was the love.

I went to the bed.
The one I never make.
It was made.
There was the love.

I fell apart and said, “I just want to get away from the responsibility, I don’t want to think about the bills or the cleaning or the groceries or what’s for dinner tonight or anything”.
It was all too heavy.
Too much.
You said, “Shall we book a night away?”.
There was the love.

I went to the car.
The tank was full.
There was the love.

All along.
Under currents.
Running along.
It was there.

It was there from time to time.
In moments gone.
In moments yet to arrive.
It wasn’t everything you said.
It wasn’t everything you did.

But it was here.

It was here.

The love.

Ditto for you babe.
Ditto for you.

I will try.
To. Be. Better. For. You.

To seek before I fall apart.
To trust before I assume.
To believe before I hurt.