Becoming Who I Want To Be

I hold the book in my hands,
As I ponder back on what I have read;
The past chapters flash before me as I seek to find their truth.

The past cannot be changed. The words have already been printed.
I have read and re-read them over and over again,
Sometimes dwelling too long on this nuance or that,
And struggling to let go of a brief summary that missed so many points.

I write today's words much more carefully,
Partly out of fear of someday reflecting on them
In just the same way I am reflecting on those already written,
And partly because from those words, those sentences,
Those paragraphs and chapters I have learned so much.

And ahead of me are still many blank pages.
Pages waiting to be touched, to be written.
They long for a story of love, of compassion, of honor and loyalty,
Of friends who love each other as much as themselves,
And who can help each other see today the way it really is
Without bleeding too much into each other.

I want you beside me in these pages yet to come.
And I pray not to foolishly force misspellings and grammatical inconsistencies
Upon you as we move through each word, each chapter.

I want to write my own book. I want to edit the pages.
But, ultimately, I want you beside me to read them.
So now, I fall onto my knees and grasp my eraser in my hand
Until my knuckles turn white. And I pray that as I write each day,
Each will be more fluent, more succinct, more true,
So that maybe someday I can be beside you.