Going to start big, because I need you to believe this, to feel it through and through. You are the one I love and will love until my dying day. I love your skin, your knees, your heart, your mind, your needs, your navel. Because that love is so deep, so natural, I forget it sometimes. It’s the air I breath. And I’ll only share the air I breathe with you, my love.
I love that your hair is curly and frizzy and alive. I love your electric blue nails. And your chubby toes. I love the scar on your forearm that you got baking chocolate cake for your sister and your family in Florida. That was good cake. And the burn got you the attention you craved.
I love how you loved your sister. That is important and necessary for you to remember. Your love was generous, over the top, needy, yet you let her go. It is that love that keeps her here with you. Your sister, with the glorious wild curly hair. That is part of you too.
I love how you love your parents imperfectly. You get the most generous when you resent them the most. You are tender with them when you want to stab them for getting frail and sick. They gave you gnocchi, Ponza and this house, which keeps you safe and protected.
You flail around in your life. You’re restless and will work yourself up to great feats of bravery. You’ll drive to Michigan to meet a stranger, you’ll accept a job because it’s something you’ve never done. Your soul is an adventurer, even if your body has been in the Bronx a long time.
You’re funny, soulful and creative. You care about the girls you lead; you work hard to make them understand that they are seen. That they are perfect. You don’t always do that for yourself.
You wear lace and fancy underwear. I love the swish of your thighs and the curve of your waist. You enjoy a cocktail. And swimming. I love how excited you are about being in the water. Especially nightswimming.
You are imperfect and brave. You panic that you’re not enough and go for the big gesture. You’re needy and proud. But you are enough. You are great. You try to be good and kind. You are beautiful. And I’m glad you’re mine.