We both said things I hope we now both regret
(I know I do),
at a volume I hope we both regret too.
And she stormed up to her room,
and I steamed downstairs,
until I forced myself to go upstairs.
And looking down at irate incarnate
in that still small form,
lying on the bed, back turned to me,
I found I didn’t have to force myself, at all,
to say, “I know you’re mad at me,
and I’m mad at you,
but I do still love you.”
And I laid down next to her,
put my arm around her,
until I felt her small hand,
curl around mine—
until she went to sleep.
I’ve noted it before.
Sometimes it’s just that initial initiative
that has to be forced—
so you do what you don’t feel like doing,
to find yourself,
doing exactly what you want to be.