Why would I need my better half?
I mean all of me is standing right here. Rather it’s my left
half, my right half, my top half, or my bottom half, my better half stands with
my worse half, my worse half with my better half, and both my halves stand
together. My halves form a whole; my whole has no divisions, so I ask again,
“Why would I need my better half?”
I don’t. I need my better whole.
I need a whole person, complete with their own set of dreams
and aspirations and not the thoughts of trying to piggy back off mine.
See, it’s ok to accept a half if you’re looking for
completion, but I want completeness. I don’t’ want to complete her, she shall
not complete me, for at our time of meeting we shall already be whole. And
we’ll grow in our completeness, making each other better people, not just
better halves.
My better whole will meet me halfway, matching what I bring
to this table called life. In a battle of wits she’ll have her own arsenal of
sarcasm and punch lines. She’ll complement my sharp tongue with her own array
of rhetoric come backs and smart ass remarks.
She’ll be the fun house mirror reflection of me, having all
my qualities in her own quantities and our marriage will be the birth of the
next great power couple with a capital HNIC.
Beneath the layers of motivation, determination, aspiration,
sexual temptation, and sensual sensation lays the 12 yr old version of us,
having middle school’s version of fun, but laughing like grown folks do.
I mean, if I am to be THE, she will definitely be THEONE not
to be easily outdone by the masses or cheated by societies classes. Challenging
the norm, breaking the mold, surpassing expectations by more than 10 fold.
And still my left half next to my right half, my top half
over my bottom half, my better half stands with my worse half, my worse half
with my better half, and both my halves stand together. My halves form a whole;
my whole has no divisions, so I ask again, “Why would I need my better half?”
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