The Hardest Thing

The hardest thing I had to do was leave you. No amount of words can explain how much I wanted to stay or how much I wanted to take you with me. You know that by how tightly I held your hand in silence on our way to the airport. You know that by the way I kept showing up at your front step every single day, two months before I had to leave.

I refuse to believe we happened at the wrong time-- not when everything with you felt right. Gloomy days, storms, heavy traffic, late night walks with all the potential thieves surrounding, fast food, and ten kids-- God, ten kids still sounds like a good idea with you. And we both know I was never for these kind of things. But I love you with a love so much that it spins me off of my axis.

The hardest thing I did was leaving you. And I know that I did not kiss you at the airport. That I did not even say I love you. But I will come back. And I will never leave again.

And I will make sure I get to kiss you and tell you I love you every single day, from then on.