The third thing in which I must warn you, is of my need to heal. I will put bandages over your raw and bloody knuckles and hold your fingertips in the palm of my hand to kiss your knuckles so gently that you hardly notice that my lips are there at all. I will pick up your broken heart and place each fragment into a bowl filled with my own, and they will shine like the in reflection of sunlight against a rainy windshield. I will find a way to paint the smile back in your face- that face that makes me feel whole. I will start fires in your heart with the sparks in my eyes just to keep you warm. I will shine like the sun in your darkest days, and the moon on your darkest nights. Even on the days that the smile on my face was cut out of an old happy photo of me, and glued onto my wavering lips, I will laugh with you until you feel okay again. You must expect me to stitch your shredded past back together with golden thread so that is shines like your eyes in the moonlight. On the days that you shut me out, I will patiently wait on the doorstep to your mind, and on the days that your heart weighs heavily in your chest, I will be the sparrow that flies away with it. When you are ready to close the book to the story that has taken years to write, I will pick up a pen and keep writing with you. When the semi-colon at the end of the chapter you’re in becomes another piece of literary functions, and no longer holds the same significance it once had, and you want to rip it off the end of the sentence because you don’t want your story to continue, I will kiss the palm of your hand and place it on my beating heart so that you remember why that semi-colon is there. You will remember to keep writing.
Our stories will be one in the same.
Love, the sunless wanderer.