When you were little,
I could have sworn that I always knew what to do
to make you feel better
I feel like I can’t even guarantee that I won’t make you feel worse
And it leads me to question if I ever really had it all figured out
if I was fooling myself all along,
the Queen of Misplaced Confidence.
I wanted so much for it to be true –
for us to be closer than close
But maybe that was wrong too . . .
maybe freedom was the point all along.
I’m not good at it,
it would seem.
I’m not a fan of realizing that what you might need
is s p a c e
instead of a hug
instead of conversation.
So here it is – the dreaded truth . . .
But I love you the same.
More, in fact –
and I guess I’m asking your permission for that to be okay.