Sometimes I wake up wondering if I love you too much. It’s usually after nightmares where I’m lost in mazes and I always think you’re going to be around the next corner. You are never around the next corner in my nightmares.
I read stories in the newspaper occasionally about people who do good things for others. These small acts of kindness, and sometimes they end with the people saying, “Well, of course, I did this, this is what we do for each other.” Most times the stories in the newspaper though are about the things we do to each other.
I like the way that the pines look after strong winds, the way they bend almost to the ground. The curves of their trunks as if the wind was almost enough to break them. Almost.
I try to imagine worlds where stars grant wishes, where there are ghosts that need only to be forgiven or discovered to find some kind of salvation, where we all do for each other as much as we can.
Sometimes I wake up wondering if I love you enough.