Always Here

Always here for you.

I keep thinking about those words.

They should have made me feel better.

I think a part of me really wanted them to.

But somehow, they hurt.

Maybe because they came after being told to come back when I was ready.

And suddenly always here felt less like I’m staying, and more like I’ll be somewhere if you decide to come back.

Maybe that isn’t what you meant.

I hope it isn’t.

But I think what hurt was realizing how differently I understand the word here.

When I say I’m here, I mean you don’t have to disappear until life feels lighter.

I mean I’ll still send you something stupid.

I’ll still wonder how your day went.

I’ll still want you around even when you don’t have much of yourself to give.

I don’t need to fix you.

I don’t need to carry you.

I just don’t want you to feel like you have to become okay before you can sit beside me again.

Maybe always here means something different to you.

Maybe it simply means the door will still be open.

And maybe that should be enough.

But if I’m being truthful,

I didn’t need an open door.

I think I just needed to know you were still on the other side of it.

So I’ll believe the words the best way I know how.

I won’t ask you to prove them.

I won’t chase their meaning.

I’ll just let time show me where here actually is.

I just wish those beautiful words didn’t feel so far away.