I think about it a lot. Like maybe I love you the way your dog does. Chasing you from room to room. Nervous when I can't see you. Just wanting your attention. Just wanting to be good to you. So sad when you're gone. Not having control at all. Belonging to you. Waiting to exist only when you open the door.

Maybe I love you like medicine. When I take you I feel stronger. I do better. I am accomplished. I feel whole. I get more done. I live life louder, brighter. I crave you. I take you too often. I am addicted.

Maybe I love you like sadness. Like a sad 80s song. Listening because I want to cry.  Like sitting alone in a cafe. Like driving alone on Sunday. Like staying home all night. Holding on to the pages of a sad book, clutched against my heart, sobbing. I can't let go.

I'd rather love you like a lion. I want to take care of the pride. I want to be the hunter. The animal of prey. For you. For me.

Could I love you like healing? Like growing strong. Living longer. Having real health. Being well alone.

Can I love you like peace? Like sending light to strangers. Like thinking about good memories. Like laughing at private jokes. Surrender.