I remember I used to love this song I love you even when I’m sleeping when I close my eyes you’re everywhere.

I wanted this everywhere love. I waited for it rather impatiently.

I loved him even when I was hurting. When I cried at night, always there.

And that one? Oh yes I loved him even when I was bleeding. When I washed my wounds, always there.

There are few things more precious in my life than the way I love. I have a lot of it. I see that as a blessing. I have had poor discernment. I see that as past tense.

When I close my eyes, I am afraid of nightmares. There was the one who cheated. I never quite understood what was worthy of my forgiveness. It was early in the relationship and I should have just ended it but somehow I suspect I felt a need to prove that I was not worthless.

There was the one who ghosted. Just couldn’t manage the work of all my books and subtitles. Couldn’t actually talk to me. Couldn’t believe what was underneath my face and hips. I was more than he could get.

Oh and the one whose crush melted before I touched the glass. Ice swishing in the bottom of something we will forever be curious about. Curiosity is a thing that lasts.

Maybe the one who did not deserve my cynical disenchantment. A sweet soul with a penchant for the romantic. A caress I swept away from my chest. His questioning why that I never laid to rest. How is it I am so deeply sorry but have no regret?

Definitely the one who boomed through my soul. Tore me in every direction and dug every possible hole. Even when I’m sleeping, he always scares. His theory of submissiveness still awakens me. Headaches pull my chin close. His occasional calm haunts me. His public charm alarms me. I will always wonder why they can’t see this monster crashing dreams.

But close by when I have cleared my mind. Is the one who is at both the left and the right. The one whose smile has never run out of light. The one who did not get away. The one whose consistency never wavers. Never threatens it won’t stay. The one I have loved on purpose. The one who makes both the quietest and loudest sound. Always a music. Always an impresario. Always a symphony carrying alto. Always a saxophone. Always a golden tone. Always the one. Benjamin has always been the one.

So now I understand the song. Don’t be confused by my apparent lack of ceremony. My mind is clear.