Is my least favorite word.

To stop and think
    Is to become objective.

To become objective
    Is to invoke reason.

To invoke reason
    Is to demand perfection.

When I was subjective,
I thought of you as a sunrise.
I saw you like I saw the ocean,
And you were everything.

Yet when I discovered Selah,
I saw you for what you really were.
You were a beautiful flower
And a sparkling diamond.

You were not a sunrise,
You were not the ocean,
So you were not perfect.
And I, in objectivity, demanded perfection.

As we sat on that driveway,
I was the model of the objective,
You the subjective,
As you cried and I did not.

So you hated me
For my cool, disconnected speech,
And my unknowledge,
And my broken promises.

But when I became subjective,
When I dismissed Selah,
When I retired to my room,
Then I understood too.

You are gone now;
I regret it deeply.
But I will push through by subjection,
And you will push through by the cross.