Loving Me

You love yourself enough

to be here," she said.

And though I sometimes wonder

how I possibly love this imperfect creature -

who judges too quickly, and cries too often,

I think she is on to something.

Four long years of school,

empty bank account and bare closet,

I loved myself enough to stay up all night

cramming for that Italian test,

just so I wouldn't be crushed when I saw that

fateful letter circled in red.

And then I said no to all of those boys

whose feelings may have been hurt

but who nonetheless were either spoiled or moody

(but usually dull)

and I would much rather spend my night alone

with a mug of cocoa and my bed.

And then there was the time I moved to a new place

just to show myself that I could

and I left the man I loved behind

because I knew that I had to go

before I could love him

the way he deserved.

And I suppose that I do love myself enough

to wake up before the sun

next to the man I love

and tip-toe out the door because

that love for me is at least as much

as I need.