I Want The Bad Parts Of Us Too

couple embracing in bed
God & Man

I’d be lying if I said I didn’t want to spend my Friday nights with you. My Saturdays and my Sundays too. But what I really want is to slip right into Monday morning with you. I want to sit still with you when the dread of Sunday night sets in and I know I have to be up early. Maybe we can watch a movie or something and try to forget about it, per your request.

I’d be lying if I said I didn’t want to sit across from you and watch you sip your coffee or your liquor. But what I really want is to be there when your throat is sore and you ask me for some tea with lemon and honey. I want to stick around when my throat becomes sore too and we take turns being miserable.

I’d be lying if I said I didn’t want you to be there when my milestones took place. When I got that promotion, when my book got published, when I crossed the finish line. I want to be there for yours too, because I know there will be many. But what I really want is for you to be there when the lows hit. When I fight with my family, when I feel lost, when I disappoint myself for the umpteenth time. I want you to see me when I feel starved. Starved for money, attention, love, direction – all of it. It changes me like it changes anyone, but I want you to see it. I want you to see me as a real human being. I want you to see me when life breaks me way worse than the ones that came before you. And I want to see you too.

I want the headaches. Many of which I cause, admittedly. Especially when you just want to relax and watch a movie and it’s a lose-lose (I’ve either seen the movie and can recite the whole thing or I’ve never seen it and will ask you a million questions about what’s happening – sorry in advance). Or the real headaches when I can’t see past my insecurities so I just throw them in your face as if they’re all your fault. I want the long days when I come home and am just looking to unleash my frustrations on the closest one I can find, which is far too often you. I want the empty threats, the rage filled nights, the cold shoulders. I want you to see just how ugly I can get. I want the tearful mornings and promises that we will never get like that again. I want the days when you struggle too. I want you to take it out on me because you know I’ll forgive you no matter what.

I’d be lying if I said I didn’t want you. But I don’t just want the you that exists today. I want all of you.

I want you today, tomorrow, next week, and every day after that. I want the good times, the hard times, and the great times. I want the joy, the pain, and the numbness. I want the complaining, nail-biting, exhaustion, hopefulness, devastation, and euphoria. I don’t just want to grow old with you; I want to be young with you. I want us, young, full of insecurities and beliefs that we know what the “real world” is like. I want the shared false confidence that we know the ultimate differences between right and wrong on issues far more complicated than the direction of the toilet paper on the roll.

I want this because I know that a bad day with you is far superior to any good day without you. I want it all. TC mark

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