Under construction.

He is the architect of my happiness.

I could never create as he does, with my fumbling fingers and incomplete set of legos.

The only drawback is that before he plans his newest blueprint, he completely destroys me. Razes every inch of me, until there's nothing left, leaving me breathless and blank. I'm an empty stretch of land, waiting to be tracked. Desperately seeking meaning. Purpose. I am nothing of my former self.

He facilitates the unbecoming of me with one systematic swing of the wrecking ball.

I can't function without his vision, even though it wrecks me every time.

But the truth is, what he builds is breathtaking and I've become addicted to the process.