Thursday, April 17, 2014
If, one day, I show up at your door.
And I look put together and happy and ready to go somewhere with you.
And you answer your door.
But you barely crack it. And you've lost your smile.
Because your life is messy. And you're wearing your Cinderella rags.
And you just can't bear the thought of going somewhere.
Or feigning happy.
I will take you in my arms and hug you tight. For a long time.
And then I'll quietly pull my hair back.
And put on my apron.
And take off my shoes.
And hold your hand as we walk into your life together.
And I'll pick up a sponge.
And I'll give one to you.
And we'll both get on our knees.
And I will scrub with you.
And every now and then I will tell you how much I love you and how thankful I am that you are letting me scrub with you.
And I hope you know that I mean it.
Because my life is messy, too.
And I know what it's like to just need someone beside me while I scrub.