I think I chose you. I think I chose you when I was simply a floating star, waiting for a place to land. I chose you in your torture, in your spiral of doubt, in your selfishness. I chose you in your hands, in their warmth and in the way they would glide across the page leaving a universe in their wake.
I think I chose you from high above, when I was deciding where I would walk in life. I think I chose you for the things I saw in you. Things you never saw. Things you died quietly, never knowing. I chose you to become more compassionate, more caring, more connected. I chose you not because you could show me these things, but because you needed them, too.
I chose you and watched. I watched and learned and lost you. You chose and evaded and left me. But I refuse to believe that I chose wrong.
I am missing you today and I would choose you again.