I am

I am the guy who thought of you first.

I am the guy who was so thrilled with that thought that the thought took substance. I am the guy who loves your body; yes, I am the guy who chose the flat nose that you hate.

I am the guy who watched you grow up; who watched you say your first word; who watched you become the apple of your entire family’s eye; who watched you bully your little sister.

I am the guy who loves you – your quirky thoughts, your best intentions, the soft spot in your heart, your voice, your very essence. I am the guy who hates your flaws – when you do what you said you wouldn’t; when you didn’t do what you said you would, when you do what you know that I hate.

I am the guy on the street you bought the tissues from; I am the guy who smells on the bus; I am the guy in the nursing home with the paralysed face and idiotic smile; I am the guy who needs your seat on the bus.

I am the guy who couldn’t give you up.

I am the guy who did the unspeakable just to have you back.

I am the guy who knows that you think that I’ve forgotten you. I have not. I only have to look at the palm of my hand to read your name.

I am the guy who waits for you to come home.

I am.