Things I know to be true:

I have black hair and brown eyes.

I love cashews and reading.

Being around people makes me happy.

I have a mom, dad, and one sister.

I am happy.

Some days I’m not quite so happy.

But that’s okay.

I have you.

What are you passionate about?

You asked me that yesterday.

Out of nowhere you asked.

I think you were trying to be deep and thoughtful.

And I realized,

I didn’t know.

And I thought about it for a while. 

Sunsets and fall leaves

I said.

Spending all day rewatching Harry Potter,

dancing in an empty house.

Short hair and thick framed glasses.

But that’s not right,

I think.

I love those things.

What does it mean to be passionate about something?

Is it the same as love?

Is it feeling your heart race in your chest?

Feeling warm in the pit of your stomach instead of emptiness?

And I realized

what I’m passionate about is you.

You and me.

Everyone I hold most dear.

I’m passionate about smiling and your heartbeat.

The lines on your hands and laughing.

Watching Christmas movies at night with my family.

Going on trips.

Acts of love.

The knowledge that you care for me.

That I care for myself.

Loving myself and you.