The Shape of You in Me
When you died, people said things like, “To know one was to know the other, because they were so thoroughly a part of one another.” I used to wonder if others could see it, if they understood - all the ways that our souls were intertwined, all the ways we were a part of each other.
It’s hard to speak to the shape of you in me because you are my insides. We’ve always been a package deal. There is no me without you.
You and I are the foundation of my heart, the place where I began. You were born when I was two; I literally don't know a life or a world without you in it. There is nothing that came before you, and no part of my life that will be untouched by you. You are woven into every part of me.
And so how can the world see the shape of you in me?
Your shape is in every bit of love I give, because everything I know about love started with you.
Your shape is in all the ways that I mother my children, because our relationship taught me tenderness and trust.
Your shape is in every one of my friendships, because you were my oldest and dearest friend.
Your shape is the foundation of my family, because you were my whole family in one person.
Your shape lives in every truth I tell and appears every time I can’t fake it, because we’ve both always been shit at pretending. It appears every time I break the silence with a joke or disarm someone with heartfelt honesty.
Your shape lives in every way I try to be true and brave, because you were always true and brave. It’s in every moment I choose to fight for what’s right, because you always wanted to leave the world a little better than you found it.
The shape of you lives in every silly dance, in every goofy moment, in every rereading of Harry Potter. It lives in every rewatching of Elf or Little Women or 10 Things I Hate About You. It lives in every song played on the ukulele, every walk in the woods, every bit of nature that I bring into my home.
Your shape appears every time I create simply for the joy of it, because that’s what you did every time you sat down to make music or make art. It appears in everything that is handcrafted and made with love.
Your shape lives in woodland animals on my Christmas tree. It lives in simple pleasures and freshly made guacamole. It lives in care packages and snail mail love notes. It lives in presents wrapped in brown kraft paper with colorful ribbon.
Your shape lives in me every time I circle around a campfire or lay on the ground and look up at the stars.
I call forth your shape more and more these days, constantly on the lookout for ways to make it more visible. I’ll be calling it forth until the day I die, looking for your shape everywhere.
It’s hard to speak to the shape of you in me because you are my insides. We’ve always been a package deal. There is no me without you.
You and I are the foundation of my heart, the place where I began. You were born when I was two; I literally don't know a life or a world without you in it. There is nothing that came before you, and no part of my life that will be untouched by you. You are woven into every part of me.
And so how can the world see the shape of you in me?
Your shape is in every bit of love I give, because everything I know about love started with you.
Your shape is in all the ways that I mother my children, because our relationship taught me tenderness and trust.
Your shape is in every one of my friendships, because you were my oldest and dearest friend.
Your shape is the foundation of my family, because you were my whole family in one person.
Your shape lives in every truth I tell and appears every time I can’t fake it, because we’ve both always been shit at pretending. It appears every time I break the silence with a joke or disarm someone with heartfelt honesty.
Your shape lives in every way I try to be true and brave, because you were always true and brave. It’s in every moment I choose to fight for what’s right, because you always wanted to leave the world a little better than you found it.
The shape of you lives in every silly dance, in every goofy moment, in every rereading of Harry Potter. It lives in every rewatching of Elf or Little Women or 10 Things I Hate About You. It lives in every song played on the ukulele, every walk in the woods, every bit of nature that I bring into my home.
Your shape appears every time I create simply for the joy of it, because that’s what you did every time you sat down to make music or make art. It appears in everything that is handcrafted and made with love.
Your shape lives in woodland animals on my Christmas tree. It lives in simple pleasures and freshly made guacamole. It lives in care packages and snail mail love notes. It lives in presents wrapped in brown kraft paper with colorful ribbon.
Your shape lives in me every time I circle around a campfire or lay on the ground and look up at the stars.
I call forth your shape more and more these days, constantly on the lookout for ways to make it more visible. I’ll be calling it forth until the day I die, looking for your shape everywhere.