For C.L.
For Paul
Because you both made a difference
Adorkable, I do not want to leave your home right now,
even if all we do is sit in your living room—under a blanket—watching a movie.
I do not want to leave your playfulness.
I do not want to leave the way you always make me laugh.
I do not want to leave how we can talk about nothing and
everything, and you can know something and I can know something and—together—we
can grow into people who are better than the people we were in the beginning.
I do not want to leave the fact that the more I get to
know you—well, the more you make my little ol’ heart go pitter-patter.
I. do. not. want. to. leave.
And, I’m not completely certain that I can.
Superman, I do not want to leave your presence right now,
even if all I do is sit in my living room—under a blanket—remembering all the
little things, each one made special because you were a part of it.
I do not want to leave your ‘PROLLYs’ or your ‘NO-YEAH-BUTs’
or your ‘LORI-LORUS-LAVORUS-LIEBOWITZ-LILLIPUT-LIPSCHITZs.’
I do not want to leave your head thrown back in your
full-hearted, happiness-inducing laughter.
I do not want to leave your explanations about the Rose of
Sharon, or what hands on stomachs means or why sometimes decent people do
things they don’t want to do because it is the RIGHT thing to do.
I do not want to leave how you could tell me you loved me—without
words—with just the smile on your face.
I. do. not. want. to. do. it.
And, I’m not completely certain that I can.
I do not want to leave, but if I follow my heart and stay
here with you, then I’ll be
Leaving those people who have loved, guided, and
protected me these 23 years.
Leaving my illuminating job as a lower light, and
Leaving the only hope I’ll ever have of walking along
that street of gold, and
Leaving GOD.
I do not want to leave either of you.
I. do. not. want. to. do. it.
But I cannot leave HIM.
I. can. NOT .do. it.
I cannot leave.
