The tears that fill my eyes, burden you with guilt. I can read it all over your face. But I won’t apologize for loving you. And I never will.
You tell me not to cry. But you don’t want that. Not really. What would happen if my heart grew cold? If your departure became my indifference? If I traded brief mourning for lasting numbness? We would not survive. Nothing could.
See, after all these years, I still crave you. I crave all of you. And that’s a good thing.
There’s a beauty behind these tears. And I will never push them away. Never hide from them or them from you.
Just like your shoes sitting by the bed, your jacket hanging on the wall, we will await your return as always . . . unchanged and unapologetic.