2/15/11

The Parts Don't Equal the Whole (In the End)
By Adelaide Thorne


I love how juvenile you can be. How you pretend to pick your nose and try to make me pick it. I love when you nom on my finger because I was shushing you and you remark how my learning curve is zero. I love when you tell me I smell of autumn; it is my favorite month. I love how you pretend to cut my hair and how excited you were when I decided to actually let you do it. I love your gruff five o’clock shadow. I love your hair. I love how you wish you could control it but just let it do what it wants. I love when you pull it back with a headband. I love that you cut each fingernail as it needs cutting rather than doing them all at once. (It makes more sense your way.) I love the notes you write on your hands and how large they are. I love when you sew. I love how in your element you are. I love the way your tongue sticks out when you’re really concentrating. I love that you sew without pants on and I love even more that you feel comfortable enough doing it around me. I love your mind and the deep thoughts it contains. I love when you tell me that something I did made your day or just made you happy because I love to make you happy. I love your tickleishness and I love tickling you. I love your creativity and need to always create. I love the beautiful things you make. I love that you spend hours watching commercials. I love your high blood pressure and how it enables me to feel your heart beat; to know you’re alive. I love your purse and your confidence in wearing it. I love how you care about your friends so much. I love your laugh and how easy it can come. I love how easy it is to be around you, how you accept me for all my little quirks. I love when you get excited about anything. I love the way your eyes light up when this happens. I love when you retell stories to me, especially when you display your thoughts as they happened rather than just what occurred. I love when you enact events that are yet to happen but you hope do. I love your uncertainty about everything. I love the way you refuse to readily believe but continue to question everything. I love when you cry and I love knowing all I want is to comfort you and take away your pain. I love how painfully beautiful you are. I love you. (But you don't love me.)


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To fall in love is the only thing I wish. Everything else will fall into place.