You were the first one
to separate from me –
crying, gasping for breath,
crawling, searching, curious
about the world.
You were the first one to break my heart into a million pieces with your
bigger-than-the-sun love,
your
I-love-you-to-the-blank-places-beyond-the-universe love,
your morse code hand squishes
I. love. you.
Your conflicted heart broke into the world
of falling asleep by yourself,
running upstairs by yourself,
navigating the beautiful and
murky waters of friendships by yourself.

And soon you will be seven.
My valentine baby.

You know they’re true, I’ve realized,
all of the predictable words parents say –
the words that pale when compared
to the aching and beautiful truth in my heart:
I’ll be forever reaching out to hold you –
I’ll be forever raising my hands in celebration of who you are.

 

Happy birthday, love.