her name is aubrey
she has dirty blonde hair and laughs with her eyes closed
because she trusts me in a way no one else ever has
more than I myself ever will

her favorite animal is a giraffe because their necks go on for miles she says
their necks are like monkey bars and the test I had to take to get into the second grade and the bridge to get to aunt emma’s; they’re so long but the view is so grand
it’s so hard to reach but it’s worth it if you try

none of my friends wanted children of their own so they learned to share mine
they always said when we were too young to perfect how to act like adults that children were scary
they were the biggest commitment we can make
and I said good
write me in her skin in pen in blood in ink

aubrey doesn’t have a dad yet
or a second mom
she only has me and I don’t know if that’s enough or not

but she has an aunt adelaine who buys her the best kind of chocolate for every major holiday and now she turns her nose up for anything else
and on thanksgiving one year I thanked her profusely for teaching aubrey something I never learned
that it’s okay to only want the best for yourself

she has an aunt ana and an aunt londo who she demands skype sessions with more than she asks for ice cream

she has an aunt jenna and an aunt emma who are always around near christmas no matter how many stories they tell of their busy, taxing, incredible lives

she has an uncle ben who took one look at her and couldn’t imagine hating anything ever again because he saw proof that miracles exist
he held a miracle between his palms because he held me when I cried about test results and cysts in ovaries and “probably quite unlikely” and then saw it all get swept away and aubrey was left on the shore

she has an uncle casper who told her about superheroes as young as he could manage and now aubrey wakes up in the morning with fresh dreams of swinging on webs and saving people
saving more than just me

and she did save me, god, she did
because the disease that eats at my thoughts and tells me I am worthless
and that the pain will end if I cut it out with a knife
is really hard to listen to when you are the only person in a house with a crying child
she would be lost without me
her life depends on me
that’s a lot to live up to
that’s a whole lot of responsibility

but give me a chance
love, gods, universe
and I promise through and through
I will make it worth your while
because this isn’t the life I have yet
this isn’t everything I am
but I am convinced that it could be
if you would give me half a chance

give me an aubrey
and I will give you everything else

—  betting all-in on a life worth living, by windy sharpe