… let’s pretend that this time around I get to be the woman. I get to be the one that gets chased. I get to be the one who gets to see what it’s like to be led by a man. A real man.
Let’s pretend that I am the one who gets to hold his hand down a path of love and freedom, as he leads. Let’s switch me from the role of the bread winner, or the nice one, or the one who shows endless love to not receive it. The one who does grand and huge gestures to only get swept under the rug.
Let’s pretend for just one moment, that I get to be little spoon long enough to feel safe in a warm embrace and to feel comfortable in the arms of the man that I love. Let’s pretend for a second that it’s his words kissing my cheeks, instead of tears staining them from the words stabbing me in my stomach.
Let’s pretend for just one single moment in time, that I get to receive a long meaningful text message in the morning about how someone misses my smile in the afternoon while reading my favorite book curled up in someone’s arms. Or when I’m at work and I get a call from security because someone sent me flowers because they couldn’t stop thinking about me.
Let’s pretend for a wrinkle in time that the roles are reversed. That someone plans an elaborate birthday weekend for me with my favorite candies and food. With a note explaining the, how many years I have been alive, as to why someone loves me. Or that someone makes me a surprise itinerary with only addresses and times of where we are going.
Let’s pretend for one second that I get to be held when I’m afraid. Not holding myself when I’m afraid of
Let’s pretend for long enough that I get to be the princess and someone gets to be my prince.
I can do it all by myself. I have, I always will if I have to.
But let’s pretend, for just one second… that I would never have to do that again.