I know you’re there. I feel you all the time like stars trapped, shimmering beneath my skin. They are getting brighter with belief; we are getting stronger. I feel you in the soundtrack of my life, messages in music you’ve chosen just for me. I feel you in the thirty-threes popping up everywhere, their curves, a soothing embrace. I feel you when I cannot cry and you make it rain. I feel you all the time, in the butterfly that kisses my hair, the strangers that smile at me, the moon pulling me in.
I trust you in such a simple way. I know that you are weaving a beautiful life for me and that this cannot be done without trials and tribulations. You have hurt me. You have tested me. You have tossed tough lessons at me, teaching me about wisdom, about courage, about perseverance, about rejection.
Still, I love you. I see your reflection in everything I do. I feel ribbons linking us wherever I go, ready to yank me out of bad luck. I will always be able to sing because of you, even when I don’t quite understand the words. I am wearing a dress of question marks that you made for me, but I know that the answers are sewn into the seams.
Even now, when my smile is sore with stubbornness, thinking of him and our matching puzzle pieces we touched with wrong sides, all I have to do is remember the shooting star: a reminder that you’re always there, watching me. I feel you watching me all the time, you and your army of angels: dirty-white-haired grandmothers, green-eyed babies, lonely beggars, the children I haven’t met yet, the souls I used to be.
I know you are carving a path for me; the directions are in my heart, and I am ready to listen.