A Poet and A Warlord



If I had a daughter I would tell her sweetie, it’s okay to be better than the boys at all the games they play, even if they try to bring you down. Because darling you were built to climb both trees and social ladders, and both of those things matter for little girls, not just the boys. And you can have a silent cry and not apologize for taking up my time or putting tears upon my shoulder.  And when you want to play with dolls or little action figures or look at dusty pictures, I will always have the time. If you want to light a fire and cuddle right beside it, I will hold you tight even if I get too warm.  Or if you want to be alone, then I will let you roam and discover secret places on your own so you can hide there.  When you want to wrestle, climb all over me and half the time I’ll even let you win. Honey you can be a princess and a warrior.  You can be a poet and a warlord too. You don’t have to be afraid of closet monsters, because the real monsters will be afraid of you.



March 1st, 2013

Tomorrow marks the six month anniversary of the day you and I walked to the cliffs of Fort Funston. We missed the sunset by a couple of minutes, but light escaping over the horizon still touched the dark Northern California ocean in the most beautiful way. That’s still my favorite spot in all of San Francisco.

When it was too dark to see, we walked home along the street that curls around the edge of Lake Merced, our path only briefly illuminated by passing headlights.

I remember holding your hand in the frigid San Francisco spring air, listening to your nervous voice with my own nervous ears–waiting for you to ask what I’d been hoping ever since you bought that plane ticket.

“Will you be my girlfriend?”

March 1st, 2013 is the day you made everything different.

I love you.