I love you, you know

I do. How can I not? You are kind. You are patient. You are fun to be around. You were present for one of the hardest years of my life. You are easy and simple. 

I look at our son and see your eyes, your chin, and the hint of your dimple. But his eyes are not your eyes. They are not guarded and cautious. They are filled with adoration for me. I am his world and he delights in me. 

I will always love you and think of you fondly when I look at him. Our spark of magic burned so bright and so hot that it culminated in this tiny little being and it will live on. But you? You will move. I will move on. We will always know each other but not like we are today. Today we are drawing to a close. And I love you. 

Sometimes I wish we had more time together. Another year, another five years. I don't think I would ever grow tired of being with you. But I don't know that I would grow staying with you now. 

You are good. You're a good man. You are steady and stoic and you balance me. But I don't think you're ready for me yet. Not all of me. And I don't think I can carry on only doling out bits of myself from time to time and hoping you can fit together all the tiny pieces and see me. Maybe I'm not ready for you to see. 

But right now, today, I love you. I think you should know.