Anxiety grips me

telling me I shouldn’t

feel at all.

Unable to relax

I drift along

trying to find

peace.

He caught my eye

that one day at

group.

I didn’t know then

that he would be

the love of my life.

His arms wrapped

around me,

holding my body

close to his.

So close I can

hear his heart beating.

The sound brings me

to a place of solace.

Loving.

Caring.

Peace.

The way he kisses

my forehead

as if to tell me

All will be alright.

The warmth of

his body

seeps into mine,

warming me from

my core.

I am safe.

I am loved.

I am worthy.

Here, I can

be myself.

Be generous.

Be kind.

Be a hopeless romantic.

It’s here that

I know I can

feel.

It’s not the

sweeping gestures

that really matter

in the end.

It’s the everyday things

that tell me

he loves me.

That maybe I can

love me, too.

Maybe someday,

I’ll see what

he does.

Maybe someday,

I’ll look at myself

through my dog’s

eyes.

Maybe someday

I’ll look in that mirror

and say

‘Hey, I like you’