(I wrote this back in high school. Published in the Metro Bridge, February 2001)

(PS Don’t judge me to harshly, I was 16 and the rose-colored glasses were still firmly on).

I want him to be nice
And sweet
And to hold me like no one before
I want his smile to prove my safety
And his eyes to prove his love
I want him to be strong
Because I am weak
I want him to be certain
Because I am not
I want him to be positive
Bringing laughter despite my tears
I want his joy to
Let me know he is here
I want to be able
To bear my soul to him
And for him to learn everything it holds
I want him to touch me
And feel the body he now owns
I want him to inhale me
To enjoy me
To drink me
To spend hours learning every inch of
My body an what it is capable of
I want his temper to be
As strong as his mind
But he will be fair
More like the father figure I never had
I want to be able to close my eyes
And lose myself in him
And to fill all my six senses
With his presence
I want him to be the wings
That will help me fly
I want him to always
Challenge me with his mind
I want to be able to trust
My judgement when it comes to him
I want to be with him
And not be afraid of what comes next
But trust him completely
With my all
I want to be able to fill my head
With only images of him and his voice
To be able to kiss
Bite and love him roughly
Or with all the time in the world
But most of all
I want to be his pillar
Like he will be my stepping stone
And to be there when he is sick
And to be his pride when it falls
I want to cry
And laugh
And plead
And dance with him
And share with him what
I know
That is what I want
Most of all.