I can't fix him...
I can't fix him, but I can let him rest his head on my chest while I pet his hair and softly hum to him. I can kiss the crown of his head and murmur how beautiful he is and that he's safe in my arms. I can be the one he sleeps with in warm sheets and tender intimacy, skin to skin, tracing each bump and curve with kisses, giving him no choice but to see the way I look him in the eye and tell him how beautiful he is and how happy I am just simply being together. I can't fix him, but I'll show him how much I love him and how far my admiration and devotion span beyond the time we share, the kisses we'll trade, the fleeting caresses with trembling fingers that are too nervous to find their purchase. I'll be so patient with him; I'll kiss him good morning and goodnight, and I'll laugh with him when I whisper a joke to him. I can try to be the one for him, his reason to come home and be the reason he pines when we are apart and loathes when he must leave me for a while, counting the hours it will take until we can kiss under candlelight in each other's arms.
