So slowly, over all these years, we’ve grown apart.
When we first met, I saw quite clearly
(back then my eyes were keen and smart)
that I had found the very thing I needed,
the long lost continent that made my map complete,
the missing chamber of my heart.
Fast forward, let’s say 10 years from the start,
and suddenly, things look less clear;
discomfort, pain, a piercing dart;
you have your own ideas, ambitions, hopes,
it seems you may not, after all, be put on earth
to make me whole. (We disagree on Art.)
But now, as youth and vision both depart,
I see you for the first time as your self:
distinct, defined, free, separate.
And yet you choose to love me. Proving that
the hardest, best and most important thing we’ve done
is, over all these years, to grow apart.