My mother thought of the men in her life as oxygen tanks, if one ran out she would replace it so quickly, never learning to breathe without one.
I thought of the men in her life as helium, how they'd always make her float away from me, how she would always come back down so deflated
I remember exhaling all I had to keep her afloat but when something has a hole you cannot fix all the air in the world, it just won't hold.
And there are still days I don't feel worthy unless my lungs are empty, there are still days I surround myself with those who are deflated
So when I call you a breath of fresh air, I mean thank you for coming into my life already full, I mean thank you for being the first person who wanted me to fill myself up first
When I call you a breath of fresh air, I mean I feel so much better since I let you in.