When I ponder what I've done, and who I've been,
I see a multitude of deeds and faces.
I have never fit in where it was ideal to fit in,
but I have come to fit with the right people...there are
very few of them,
and that is okay.
For a significant portion of my time,
I have done less than my best...always
fully aware of it, and mildly bothered,
but not enough to find it important to do better.
To a few that loved me, I was not always faithful.
And though it's no error to tout proudly,
I never once offered an apology that was insincere,
not been more sincerely grateful to know with confidence
they were not meant for me
or my future.
There are truths I've never told,
faded into mere useless knowledge with time gone by.
There are even physical flaws I have
that I pretend no-one has ever noticed
in my discreet, effective efforts to mask them.
But one now, nearest and dearest to me,
has most likely seen all.
And he doesn't know that I love him more
because I know he sees
and he loves me anyway.
Among other things, sometimes I pretend
to care when I don't.
I invite company, when
I'd prefer to be alone.
I nod pleasantly to conversation I'd so much rather
plug my ears to.
I say "that's okay" so a few things here and there that really aren't okay,
But despite the changing facades and self-contradictory deeds,
despite the fact I have not always done my best
or cared to,
Despite my errors and kept secrets,
Flaws I pretend I don't have
and people I pretend I do enjoy,
there is one constant that pleases me:
I am aware.
To be flawed is only natural.
But to be aware of,
and sometimes proactive against these known flaws,
is a gift
Yeah, you're terribly flawed too.
And I'm crazy about you.
And there are few, if any, things I'd enjoy more
than to spend more time with you
seeing what we fall into or trip over...
just you and me,
and our intelligent recklessness,
laughing back and forth about it all.
because we can't possibly explain it.
because if we could,
they'd all be wildly