"Have you had any firsts with me at all?" I ask, breath catching and a sadness coming over me as I realize there's not one thing unique about me.

The silence after my question spreads out and latches onto my heart, concreting the idea that I'm nothing special after all.

You flounder, trying to come up with something, anything, but you have not one occasion to offer me.

You possess so very many of my firsts, and I felt there was something important in the act of giving them to you.

But my sweetest memories are quickly tainted by the realization that many others before me gifted you with the same, their own firsts.

And I can't help but feel *****, used, and alone. For a while there, I really thought I was special.

What a joke.

Why am I so scared of this?
I can't explain this rumble jumble
     of feelings tornado-ing
     around inside me right now.
I want it, I like this chance, I do.
But ****, am I terrified too.
And the apprehension itself
     scares me.
I'm standing at the edge,
     cautiously peeking over,
     as my toes creep ever closer
          until they've passed the ledge
     dangling in that scary oblivion
heart racing, breaths tumbling
     as they chase each other
     out of my chest.
I have to jump, make this leap
     or I'll never be sure.
I can't be too scared to try,
     too fearful of the fall,
     to risk the chance to fly.

I know I caught you 
quite by surprise
when I looked at you
and you knew…
         oh man, you knew
by the look in my eyes
that the talk we were
about to have was in fact
        THE TALK.
I never meant to blow
your mind in the worst
possible way, and I know
this news is a land mine 
seemingly coming from
nowhere. Trust me, I don't 
make this decision lightly,
but I simply must take my leave 
of you, and do it 
right
this 
second. 
Please, 
       oh please, 
believe me when I say that
I'm trying to show you how
to seize control of your own life,
not trying to wreck it. And 
right now I'm going to 
lead by example, so I'll have to
say my most sincere apology
and my last goodbye here.

You run into the station as I'm pumping gas and come out with a gigantic cup of coffee.
"I know that usually by this time you've had three or four cups, and this was the biggest they had."
I take a long swig, and it's the perfect combination of caffeine, dairy, and sweetness.
"I love how you know exactly how to make my coffee," not knowing if you realize how much significance I place on this small act.
"About three-fourths coffee, one-quarter milk, and a ****-ton of sugar," you say while smiling at me so casually.
It's not a big deal, and yet it is. You pay attention to the tiniest of details, take notice of the most seemingly insignificant parts of my day.
You have no idea how much it means to me, how much value you have added to something such as this cup of coffee.

I am a tempest,
     the most violent of
     winds whipping around
     without concern for any
     who surround me. 

I am a volcano,
     the lava of my emotions 
     exploding up and over
     to seep throughout
     every nook and crevice. 

I am a typhoon,
     my gale force winds
     showing mercy to
     neither sea nor land as
     I rip-roar over it all. 


And you…
     you are the halcyon tranquility
     I've been searching for
     all along, the serenity needed 
     to calm my frenzied turbulence
     with but a stroke of your lips,
     leaving me breathless and
     my winds settled at long last.

Pure anticipation
   at the moment I
      can rush into your
         open, waiting arms
            and brush my lips
               against the smooth
                  softness of yours
                     is what propels me
                        through the dizzying
                           dullness of each day.

I've searched for the meaning of life,
oh darling, have I searched. 
Years have passed as I've tried
every method I could find,
                                                             little
things and large gestures of
madness meant to bring about
some iota of worth. Ah, darling, I
                                                               did
everything I thought could sponsor
happiness. I searched for significance
in the bottoms of bottles, though all
                                                                    I 
ever found there was yet more
emptiness. That didn't keep me from
trying over and again. I wanted to
                                                           know
that my life was important, but
felt ever more worthless the more
I searched. Every approach
                                                                 I'd
attempted brought me ever closer
to nothingness. In searching for 
the true essence of life instead I'd 
                                                              find
inconsequence, meaninglessness. 
Oh, but I tried, darling. I sought
out every drug I could, trying
to free my mind from itself. But
                                                                   it
never succeeded. No matter how
many formulated chemicals 
slid down my throat or up my nose,
I only became momentarily numb. 
None brought any true peace to
my life, took me even a bit closer 
                                                                  in
my quest for value. Determined,
I decided I would cut the meaning
out, bleed it from myself. Digging
deep within my veins brought me
                                                                   a
convenient comfort, but even that
was short-lived. Oh darling, did
I tire of searching. You see, I 
had given up my crusade until
that moment, darling, I saw you
                                                           smile.

Each night I died,
sleep slowly
overtaking my brain.
And each morning I woke
and would lie there
so disappointed at
the very act of waking,
my tiny deaths
only temporary.
I struggled to move,
bound by the weight
of my demons sitting
in my lungs until,
with a lengthy sigh,
I'd breath them out
and force myself up.

                                                          Each night I fall,
                                                          sleeping soundly in knowing
                                                          that I am cared for.
                                                          And each morning I wake
                                                          and bound up, bursting
                                                          with energy and the need
                                                          to press my lips to your.
                                                          I'm so grateful to have
                                                          another day, more chances
                                                          to be caressed by
                                                          the sound of your voice.
                                                          I am weightless, and I
                                                          let out a content sigh,
                                                          not wanting to get up
                                                          only because I have found
                                                          perfection in your arms.

All the things you've said
     that have struck me down the most
     were said as nonchalant utterances,
     or disguised as whimsy and play.
But those are the ones
     that dig in the most,
     drill into my core
until I'm so ******* and hurt
     I want to spit your venom
     right back at you.
Your words work their way
      slowly through my system,
     steadily poisoning my thoughts.
And it's the worst when I'm alone,
     with only my now-tainted mind
     for company.
Problem is, sometimes
     I feel that same loneliness
     with you right beside me.
So, despite your ardent claims
     to the contrary,
I'm quite unsure of your ability
     to handle my capriciousness
     for the long-term.

Let me tell you the story of how you brought out the bravery hidden deep within me.  Let me tell you how I’m so shy and reserved that people can know me for years and never know anything about me.  But let me also tell you how I summoned every wisp of courage-like emotion within me each and every time I spoke to you, so scared was I of my feelings not being reciprocated.  And let me tell you how I hid nothing, for I wanted you terribly, but I wanted you to like me only if you knew the true me.  Let me tell you about how impatiently I waited for you to make a move, until I couldn’t take it a moment longer.  And let me tell you too about being determined, so I left my number for you to find-sick of waiting for you to ask for it, but also wanting to give you the choice of whether or not to use it.  And let me tell you about later that day, when I asked you if you liked me, and how I thought I would faint, but I just had to know.  Let me tell you how my heart dropped when you answered that you needed to get to know me better, for I had already bared so much of myself.  But let me tell you about the hope you had given me, because you had come to my work area to talk, as well as texted me to give me your number.  Let me tell you how out of character all of this was for me-someone who didn’t talk to people, much less put myself out there to be rejected.  But let me tell you too how I used this newfound courage to call you for the first time that night.  And let me tell you about how I smiled instead of cried the entire ride home, for the first time in a very long time.

Let me tell you the story of how we slowly began to learn about one another in stolen moments of rushed conversation.  Let me tell you how bad you were for my work ethic, because I would find reasons to escape my area just to “happen” by yours.  And let me tell you how disappointed I was whenever you weren’t there.  Let me tell you about how happy I was when I discovered we have the same ******-up sense of humor, and how I loved that we could be awkward together without it being awkward at all.  Let me tell you about us discussing music and bands and the one time you walked up behind me and asked me a question about my taste in music and honestly, to this very day, that moment still takes my breath away because my whole world just stopped.  And let me tell you how, in that moment, I knew-oh baby, did I know, that I had fallen harder than I ever thought possible.  Let me tell you how you made me feel that romantic movie moment when I had called it all ******* before.  Let me tell you how my days began to revolve around sneaking in quick bits of conversation with you, and how everyone around us began to see I was falling hopelessly in love with you-more and more every day.

Let me tell you the story of our serendipitous meeting, when we had been working not too far from each other for months but only just met.  Let me tell you about how I was slacking off because I was bored of work, and tired of life in general.  Let me tell you about how meeting you literally saved my life, for I had already made the plans and set the groundwork-my decision made long before and solidified more every day.  Let me tell you about how you walked up oh so casually as I was talking to a mutual friend.  And baby, let me tell you how I thought you were pretty freaking cute, and how I was so nervous and excited when you joined in our conversation.  But let me tell you also how I showed myself to you from that very first meeting and you accepted all of me wholeheartedly.  Because, let me tell you, I was at my very worst in those moments.  And let me tell you how I walked away from that meeting with a genuine smile on my face, the first in years.

Let me tell you the story of how both of us had problems sleeping, but once we started texting, the darkness didn’t seem so long and lonely.  Let me tell you how I would stay up until mere hours before work or sometimes all through the night, not being able to sleep and not really wanting to.  Let me tell you about how going to sleep meant facing the disappointment of waking up again the next morning.  But let me tell you, baby, how I loved learning about you and how we traded questions to get to know one another.  Let me tell you about the one time we talked on the phone until you fell asleep, and I just sat there for a minute and listened to you, then whispered oh so quietly, “I love you” before hanging up.  Let me tell you about the time you told me that you’d never looked forward to texts so much in your life, and how I felt the exact same way.

Let me tell you a story about the time you walked me out of work, and how it changed the course of our lives.  Let me explain how wiggly my insides felt to have you walking beside me.  And let me tell you how I slowed my pace the closer we got to my car, trying not to be obvious.  Let me tell you about us standing there, talking face-to-face outside of work for the first time ever, and how good and natural it felt.  And let me tell you, time passed so quickly then, and the drizzle started turning to rain but I still didn’t want to go.  So let me tell you about how I got courageous again, and asked if you wanted to go sit and talk in your car.  Let me tell you how happy I was when you said yes, and how I’ve never been so thankful for rain.  Let me tell you about our first of many “car dates,” when we just sat and talked.  And let me tell you how it became clear very quickly that we are a natural fit.  Because, let me tell you, I was so nervous that I’d be too quiet and we’d have nothing to say and it would become the bad awkward.  But let me tell you how that didn’t happen, and we sat for hours in conversation.  Let me tell you about our goodbye and how it was getting late because time had become nonexistent with you.  And let me tell you about how you drove me back to my car because you didn’t want me walking in the rain, and I was so taken by how sweet you were.  Let me tell you about how I was unsure of what to do, because we had hugged many times before, but honestly, I’d spent the whole evening wanting to sample your lips.  But let me tell you, I’m not the one to make a move like that, so I just went for a hug as usual.  And let me tell you how disappointed I was in myself.  So let me tell you how I turned back, determined to kiss you, but quickly lost every nerve I had, and so started to settle for a second hug, this time adding the quickest kiss on your cheek.  But let me also tell you how that somehow brought back the bravery, and I went for the kiss I truly desired.  And let me tell you, baby, I’ll never know how I got the courage to kiss you first, but **** am I glad I did.  Because, let me tell you, that kiss became one of the most pivotal moments in my life, and made me believe there was something worth living for.  Let me tell you how your kiss saved my life.

Let me tell you the story of how you showed me what it means to be part of a family.  Let me tell you how sometimes I joke that “hitting means love if it’s your family,” but I’m only actually half-joking, because that’s how I grew up.  Let me tell you how family has been for me in the past and how it meant people that would hurt you, betray you, abuse you, and destroy your very will to live.  Let me tell you about the nonexistent dad, the hateful stepdad, the cousin that liked hand jobs, and the uncle that came for me every night without fail.  Let me tell you that the abuse wasn’t just ******, and how that one time we got sent to the orphanage I was only upset because they took away my little sister.  Let me tell you about how I found a strange peace there.  And let me tell you how all the people I have loved most have died, and how I thought I was a curse so I stopped loving at all.  Let me tell you how weird it is to me to have parents calling to check up on you, and eating dinners together, and just having conversations.  Let me tell you how I look at y’all, confused as to how you can stand one another without the help of drugs.  Because let me tell you, that’s all that stopped the yelling and punching and hate at my house.  But let me tell you about how y’all seem to genuinely care for one another.  And let me tell you how much it makes me want to cry to be enveloped within this family.  Let me tell you about the time your mom told me she loves me and I didn’t know how to respond, because my mom and I only traded hate.  But let me also tell you about how I started saying it back, and mean it.  And let me tell you about my 26th birthday, when your family threw me my very first birthday party, with cake and ice cream and presents, and I didn’t know how to react to such an outpouring of love, or how to begin to show how thankful I was.  Let me tell you about y’all planning a trip six months away and inviting me.  Let me tell you how much it means, not only to be invited on a family trip, but to be accepted so much that it’s just assumed I’ll still be around then.  Because let me tell you, I live in fear of losing you.  And let me tell you about the time you almost gave me a heart attack by asking if I’d be okay with your niece calling me “Aunt Amber,” because part of me is still scared of getting that close.  Let me also tell you how my heart clenched when your mom told me your niece threw away your high school dance pictures because I’m not in them.  So let me just tell you how I cry happy tears now, knowing I am part of a real family.

Let me tell you the story of how I fell in love with all the little things you do.  Let me tell you how it started the night of our first car date, when you wouldn’t let me walk in the rain.  Let me tell you how grumpy I get without breakfast, and how you know that, so you’ll stop to buy me something if you know I went to work without any.  Let me also tell you how much it means when you cook me breakfast, and I get out of the shower and it’s done and waiting for me.  And let me tell you about when you tried so hard to make the magic toast your mom makes that I love, and you failed utterly, but how cute it was when I pictured your mom giving you that cooking lesson.  Let me tell you about your “good morning beautiful” texts and how I wait all morning for them, and they make me smile instantly every single time.  Let me also tell you about your support, and how much it means to have someone special always there cheering for me and my dreams, even when I’m not quite sure exactly what they are.  Let me tell you about how I hate both doing dishes and seeing them pile up, and when you did them for me that one morning I was so grateful.  And let me tell you how much I liked walking into the kitchen and seeing you there at the counter, because I got a glimpse of our future.  Let me tell you about the time you ran me a bubble bath and lit candles all around it and sat with me while I relaxed.  And let me tell you about the morning I left, thinking you were close behind me, but you stayed to hide little notes all over my house.  And let me tell you about finding those notes for a freaking month, and how each one made me smile and light up, a welcome reminder of your love.  Let me tell you about you washing my laundry on your day off, doing my chores when you should have been relaxing.  Let me also tell you, I’m not much of a flower-loving girl, but the evening I left work to find my favorite flowers sitting in my car was such a sweet surprise.  And let me tell you about when you dip me low and kiss me deeply, and how I’m kind of scared of falling but ****, is it romantic.  Let me tell you how I never know how to react when you start singing gushy songs to me because all I can do is blush-but baby, please don’t ever stop.  And let me tell you about the times I was oh so very sad and you put on music, took my hand, and slow danced with me until all I could possibly feel was loved.  Let me tell you how some of my favorite moments are in the car because you rest your hand gently on my leg as you drive.  And let me tell you about how I feel when we’re lying in bed wrapped around one another, legs like pretzels, and just as I’m drifting off I feel you caress my face, smooth my hair, and kiss me gently.  Let me tell you, I could go one forever about the little things you do, because I fall in love with you more every single day, with every little thing you do.

Each silent insult you hurl in my direction inches its way up my body so that it may worm its way in my soul and lie there, forcing every insecurity to my surface. Your unspoken digs crawl into my very being, wielding barbs that cut deeper than any words could. And the worst thing is, I don't think you even realize how terribly you're hurting me.

You are, quite simply,
my most frequent thought. My lips
miss the taste of you
and my jawline aches for the
presence of your silken kiss.

My bones have become filled
     to the brim with lead
until each step I take
     is so labored
     I can barely make another.
I am exhausted
     to my very core
And I'm expending
     every ounce of my energy
     simply attempting
     to hold my eyelids up.
I can't anymore, I'm sorry.
I just can't, I'm too tired,
I'm going to sleep now,
that deep, restful sleep
     from which one doesn't awake.

I'm said it before,
written it before,
                                we have an easy love.
The kind you just
            fall
back in to,
like children tumbling
backward onto a trampoline,
lungs bursting with laughter.
And they never fear the fall
because they know
they'll be caught and
bounced right back up.
And let's be honest,
the exhilaration of the fall
is half the fun.

Terrified
                   of taking this chance
                   and letting you see
                   just how jagged every
                   little piece
of
                  me is.  Broken, all my
                  scattered portions flutter
                  away until I'm no
                  longer sure of just
what
                  picture they used to
                  complete.  And you come
                  along, strolling oh-so-
                  casually to retrieve
this
                  piece and that piece,
                  fitting them in their
                  rightful places again.
                  Each snugly put in with a
love
                  I never imagined could
                  exist in reality. So tell me
                  why, when I so clearly see
                  your pure intentions, why
can
                  I not just accept it all?
                  Instead I wonder, second-
                  guess, and contemplate
                  running.  Can I ever just
be...

You
                    look at me and I sigh,
                    my world filled with a
                    pure haze and fully
complete
                    now that I know the
                    power of your smile.
                    You have brought life to
me.
                    A life I never dreamed of,
                    but now is real, too real.
                    That is the power of
                                                              ­             you-
                    the ability to bring about
                    dreams so big my stomach
                    flutters in fear. I get a
                                                               ­            scare
                    from your optimism, and
                    every bit of positivity you so
                    painstakingly draw out of
                                                              ­             me.

Spy the turtle-there!
Playing peek-a-boo with me,
loving the whimsy.

I'm like a small child
stretching my arms up
and begging to be loved.
                                                  I love you.
                                                  I miss you.
I'm still waiting for you
to show me the proof
behind your words.
                                                  I wish I could
                                                  be there with you.
Come, be with me then.
Why do I keep waking
up alone?

I'm confused as to when my touch
changed from the thing you crave
to the thing that makes you turn away.
I've always heard you can have to much
of a good thing, and I guess it's true.
Because my hands no longer
seem to bring about that same reaction
they used to.
And I'm just left here, confused.

Love isn't spoken.
It's a silent conversation
     held in a glance,
or small gestures
     just to provide
     occasional reminders
     that you care.
Love isn't spoken.
It's sitting together
     and inching closer
     just to feel the touch
     of them against you.
Love is effort,
          concern,
     unbridled affection,
     and memorizing
     the sound of a voice
     until it becomes its own
     special kind of embrace.
No, love isn't spoken.

I never cared much
   for seeing myself
   until I saw my face reflected
   in the love within your eyes.
And I was never the biggest fan
   of my name
   until I found out how it tasted
   on your tongue.

A sentence most innocent,
     yet the undercurrent
     is deep and swift.
                                                          ­  I love you, too.
A snap-reflex response
     to a heartfelt exhibition
     of true emotion.
                                                        ­    I love you, too.
To an outsider,
     nothing would be amiss
     but I read the lack of words.
                                                          ­  I love you, too.
This throwaway text
     hides something much more
     than you care to show.
                                                           ­ I love you, too.
And simple as those
     four little words, I know
     something is wrong.

The pressure builds and builds
until I've ballooned so big
that a piece of me jostles loose
and begins
               floating
                           off.
I
           leap
    after it, aghast,
and clutch it firmly to my chest.
Only when I go to place it
back in its rightful spot
            do I notice
                   other remnants gone
                missing, floating
                               wayward.
Gasping, rushing to catch them
     all before I'm completely lost,
I hurriedly put them back
     and rush to grab more.
Only after securing the last piece
     do I realize
that in my haphazard haste
I've put myself together
                                 all wrong.

Times before I've looked at my own insides,
Delicately moved my own private sword across the flesh
And watched as I proved to myself I was still alive
Despite what I felt inside, I knew what I saw. 
Don't ever call me weak. 
Days before I've stared into the eyes of my tormentor
And pretended nothing was awry though I knew
I knew he'd prove my bravery false later that night
Don't ever call me weak. 
Before, I've dropped pills in my hand, watching them cascade as a waterfall
And let them slide down my throat by the hundreds
Knowing there would be no coming back after I laid down
Waiting for my gentle release
Don't ever call me weak. 
Times before I've walked the halls of school, 
hearing others complain but knowing that was my happy place
Because "home" held such worse torments
Don't ever call me weak. 
Days before I've medicated, taking in more than should have been possible
Knowing that at any moment I could be taken
But never stopping, only going back for more
Don't ever call me weak. 
Before, I've watched with hawk-eyes every morsel that passed my lips
Going days without sustenance 
But knowing it was worth it in the end
Because I had gained control over my life, finally. 
Don't ever call me weak. 
Don't you ever ******* call me weak.

The whisper of my skin as it crosses yours
The sigh deep within as I nestle up to your side,
       trying to get closer than is even possible...
A kiss, gently settled upon my forehead,
       a gift left there, forever branded on my skin.

I take none of these moments for granted,
     but savor each of them,
                           draw them in,
                                        taste them,
Swirl their essence around like the finest of wines.
And as I nuzzle ever closer,
                                               forever closer,
I look up into your eyes,
knowing with certainty that I have found peace
                         in the whispers between our skin.

You know, sometimes it really ****** me off how completely infatuated with you I am. I try so **** hard to be the quintessentially cool, calm, and collected one.

Act like I don't immediately perk up and look around every single time I think I hear you walking my way. Like I don't check my phone regularly just in case I received some communication from you and missed it by chance. As if I don't await the moment my eyes get to settle upon your face, I get to wrap my arms around you, and press my lips to yours. Like hearing your voice isn't what starts my world spinning again when it's all stopped and also slows it down when I'm racing too fast and facing an imminent crash.

But sometimes, every so often, I wish I could back up, pull away, distance myself even just the tiniest bit. That way when the casualest insult unfurls itself from your tongue, crawls between your teeth, and crosses those perfect lips of yours, I don't feel like the wind coming off your words knocks me over with such ferocity.

I sometimes wonder if you realize
just how tumultuous the
                          back
       and
                 forth
in my head becomes day in
                           and day out.
I see the way you look at me,
as if you could gaze right through
the side of my skull,
and into my very thoughts,
as you wonder what's going on in there.
           So
               very
       much.
Tornadic
         thoughts
    hurl
themselves
        about,
and it takes all efforts to keep
my exterior placid
But the calmness is the clue you need
to know that something is brewing within.
And I'm too tired to explain,
so I leave you there, and let you wonder.