It’ll Be Okay

I have to show up broken, and why is this so hard for me?
Because I don’t want you to see me, not like this,
and so I have to leave my pride at the doorway
and try to remind myself that maybe, just maybe,
I’m not as broken as I use to be,
and maybe, just maybe, two/three more months
from now my strength will continue to increase (I pray),
because seeing you have to see me like this,
I can’t even begin to explain what that felt like,
except that I had wished in that very moment when our eyes
said everything we couldn’t, that the whole surrounding universe
could have just faded away; your arms around me,
your kiss upon my face, and the assurance
in your voice,“it’ll be okay, Jen. It’ll be okay.”

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