He’s Not My Other Half, Because I’m Already Whole

He has road rage. He hits the steering wheel and wonders what’s wrong with them.
While I’m in the passenger seat pleading their case,
coming up with a million and one reasons why
they still deserve a license.

He’s quick on his feet and I’m quick to forgive.
He’s an untamed fire and I’m a simple candle on the mantle.
We both could just as easily burn a house down, if we really wanted to.
He would just get there faster.

He knows the value of caring for yourself,
that to give to others you must first have something to give.
I have trouble not spending my energy on everyone else.
I’ll rip my own lungs out if it means it’ll help someone breathe.

He knows there are times to draw lines, and times to back out.
He sees things as Black and White, Day and Night.
But my lines are always drawn in pencil, easy to remove
If someone has an eraser colored Gray.

Our laughter strings in two separate melodies,
And our hands find different ways to hold on.
He pulls me close when I need an anchor,
I hold his hand when he isn’t holding on to reality.

He’s not my other half, because I’m already whole.
He’s not my missing piece, because I’m not a broken puzzle.
He’s not my superhero because I don’t need saving.
He’s doesn’t complete me because I’m not hollow.

He’s like a library, he’s like a music store,
He’s like the night sky, he’s like a roadmap.
He shows me a million and one things that I didn’t know I needed
That I didn’t know I wanted.

I could have lived without reading his pages,
Or learning the roads he takes, the songs he sings.
I could have lived without seeing the stars in his eyes.
Yet I’m grateful that I didn’t have to.