A relationship should not be measured in months or years. It’s the calibre of the memories that matter. Their impact, their permanence, and the degree to which they change you. I’ve had relationships lasting years I can now scarcely recollect, and hours with others that feel like infinities.
I only wanted you to f*ck me,
but then I got greedy, I wanted you to love me.
To whoever loves me next,
I’m sorry if I’m afraid of you
or if days of flirting turn to
radio silence, without warning.
I’m sorry if I make you say the words
over and over and over until I believe them.
(I’m sorry if I don’t believe them.)
I will probably spend more time
worrying about losing you than I spend
trying to keep you.
every single time I’ve ever thought
something was too good to be true–
I’ve been right.
I will know how to be vulnerable with you,
but I won’t know how not to regret it.
And I have no idea how deep we’ll be
into this relationship before I admit
I’ve never done this before.
Not in any way that counts.
Before I admit that I know
how to put my body inside someone else’s
but not how to make it beautiful.
I probably won’t be easy to love.
Too many people loved me badly,
I’m not sure I know how
to do it right.
Do you know the uncomfortable feeling when you meet that person who’s about to mess up your life? It’s kind of funny and not everyone would believe it actually exists but I had it when I first met him. I love pasta so much and it was lunch but at that moment, I couldn’t eat. I ended up trying to stuff the food all in because it would be rude not to but that uneasy feeling inside me didn’t give me a rest. I never told anybody that, even to him.
Well, truth be told, he did mess up my life. I was fine alone. A routine that I try not to miss, classes that can actually classify me as a nerd and poems I write about the love that hasn’t come to exist. I had friends. Just enough so I could hang out with people when I want to and have plenty of alone time. It was kind of lonely but I was fine.
I didn’t look at him as someone I would fall in love with. I mean, he’s cute but he slouches even while walking. He doesn’t dress that well. I never had a “type” but I was pretty sure it wasn’t someone like him. He doesn’t talk to me a lot and maybe if it weren’t for my roommate, he wouldn’t know I exist. He loves these video games I kind of know because I have a couple of brothers who love them. I think I’m kind of all-over-the-place while he was this straight-laced boy. It wasn’t a likely combination.
But I used the word “mess” twice and I think by now it’s pretty clear why I did. I never thought of kissing someone at 16. But you know, life hits you when you least expect it. And that was him. He made me do things I thought I would never do. He also made me cry a lot but damn, that boy made so mad in love that it felt like I was possessed. I think Cupid really was there and that arrow he shot right through me, it made me jump off a cliff even though I don’t have wings.
It was a mess. It was pretty, yes, it was. And like all things pretty, it had to hurt. Nevertheless, I love every inch of it. Even the parts I used to hate. Even the moments I wish that never happened. Even the times when it was pure ugly. I loved every inch of it but it all went away. I don’t know where he is now or what he does or who he is with but I promised myself I would save him in my midnight skies. And I did. We are a star now. Dead and faraway but still glowing in the darkest of times. I don’t know if I will get to experience that kind of hit in the face once again. Maybe my heart won’t beat as ferociously as it did for anyone else other than him. I don’t know for sure but I know I will never forget my first love. I hope he doesn’t forget about me.