I ought to say no, no, no...

Today, I was five.
Today, I was three, two and one.

Today, I wanted my mother.

Today, I wanted someone to take the pain away. Today, I didn't want to be alone.

I wanted the leather couch with the Christmas throw. I wanted to climb into a ball on the carpet, and have someone rub my back. I wanted toast that wasn't burned. I wanted to sleep away the day without thinking about work, about school, about the stacks of papers waiting for me to grade. I wanted Houston.

Then, I wanted you.

I wanted you to make me laugh, put in movies for me, and take my mind off the pain.
I wanted you to be here to take care of me, to tell me that everything would be ok, to love me at my worst.

Today, I was sick, and I didn't want to be alone.

Today, like all days, I wanted you.