And you wake up

I thought all the wrong things about you. 
That's the thing about life. 
We get used to things. 
1 + 1 will always equal 2. 
Not always. 
Sometimes it doesn't even sound like math anymore. 
More like songs. 
A shout down a long hallway. 
The way you can be surprised by a face. 
Like in a dream how people don't look like themselves, but you know who they are. 

They kiss you. 
Walk down endless roads. 
Show up in your old childhood home. 
Solve mysteries. 
Ride shotgun. 
Stand somewhere you had forgot all about. 

And you wake up and you just know things. You wake with language that wasn't alive before. You are a like a baby and you practice saying the truth in a mirror. You let people help you. That's the lesson. I suppose it's wrapped up in the dreaded self- awareness. Or buzzed like beer. Or in the bottom of your soft heart. But there's more to most people if you let them unzip themselves. Shine and show. Bellow and weep. 
Be the person you need. Not the one you want.