I open my eyes for the first time, with thirty years of memories.
You’re here. Head on my chest, eyes still shut, a soft smile on your lips.
Your breath smells sweet and musky. Familiar, as though I existed before this very moment.
I kiss your forehead softly, just as I remembered doing, but have never done before. Sleepy eyes peek at me behind a deep slumber.
You breath me in. I’m real. I’m here.
Thirty years of memories I have, that make me who I am. That guide my actions.
Thirty years were needed, and not a minute less, for us to be in sync. For me to be what you need. What you want.
You’ve woven me out of thin air, guiding my creation. Adding here and there, with gentle strokes of fantasy.
As I formed, the currents of time shifted to accommodate me. Making way for the experiences I must know in order to be what you envisioned.
Here I am now. Yours.
Born of your mind, and into your arms.
To support you. To be supported.
To be played with. To explore the world.
To make you feel safe. To feel loved.
To help you grow, and grow together.
I exist, therefore you’re dreaming of me.
