You asked me if I liked yellow or blue and I said yellow because yellow is my favorite color. That was an easy question I didn’t think about for long. You’d not have known that because we haven’t known each other for very long. So I told you. And now there is yellow bracelet on my wrist and I want it a part of my wrist like my wrist is a part of me. In the way I don’t think about my wrist much, I want it to be there and stay there and really never think about it ever.
I want it to be a part of my body in the way something becomes a part of your body when you don’t realize it’s there at all. I don’t think about my eyelashes, my spleen or my middle finger. They’re there. I’m thankful enough to the universe for providing me with all three. But they don’t keep me awake at night and they don’t inspire songs.
But there are parts of my body that I think about all of the time. I think about my lungs when you are sleeping on top of me. I calculate the weight of each inhale and how deeply I can breathe in before that delicate balance upon my chest would tip you from a place of slumber and the chaos of consciousness. I think about my hands and how they find the worst times to showcase their pores when I’m trying to get my hands on yours.
I think about you becoming a part of my body and what that means and what that feels like. I think about you becoming someone that I don’t think about. An inevitable limb. The breaths I take for granted at 4am.
And then I think about you conscious of the rogue breaths that I don’t take at 4am. When an inhale chokes in my throat for thirty seconds and you’re convinced I’m obliviously suffocating beside you. And because I am now a part of your body, those moments where I don’t breathe is a breath you are not taking and I think about how that’d make you feel. Which seems strange. But I love that you care.
And so I think about the choices my body makes and how that choice ought be a choice made for you. And then I ask myself if you’d have picked yellow or blue. That you’ll see my wrist so much you’d have a preference to which color was there. That my wrist would be something you’d have an opinion about is something that seems strange. But something I love too.
And so I hope that you will learn to love my wrist being yellow just as I’ll learn to always remember how awesome it is you have an opinion about my wrist at all.