I will choose you. Even on the days when you are tired and worn, when you can barely lift your head from the pillow, when you roll over— a groan escaping your lips. Even on the mornings when you curse the bathroom mirror, when you shrug on your clothes in the dark, when you brew your morning coffee and sip it slowly with the lights off. Still, I will choose you. I will rise from bed and cross that kitchen floor. I will wrap my arms around your tired body and lean my forehead against your chest. I will breathe deeply and slowly, praying for you, willing all my love to follow you wherever you go. I will choose you. Even if a smile is far from your face, even when you are angry and bitter. Still, I will smile, and kiss your cheek and tell you I love you. Still, I will go back to sleep, even just for an hour, dreaming of your hand in mine. Still, I will choose you. I will choose you. Even on the days when you do not choose yourself, on the nights when your hair is a mess ...