Banana Chips Love Story

I have a friend who frequently asks the question, “Who is your person?” And by person, She means the human being that you pour yourself into, transforming them into a jar, knowing that they’ll always be there to hold you together even when you feel as fluid as water. The person that knows every detail of not only your corpse, but also your soul. Who loves you, As deeply as you love them. “Who is your person?”   She asks me for the second time, My answer to this question left her with a tongue stained reflection. The sappy words of, “I’m my own person,” Fell from my tongue. Now, this may sound horribly arrogant.   But I’ll assure you that it’s not meant to be, You see, I’m too afraid of letting someone know me, that way that I know myself. I’ve been there before, and the person was not the jar that they claimed to be. Letting my broken pieces seep onto the floor. I’m my own person, because I’m messy and indecisive. And what a task it would be for someone to have