Sometimes
People see a part of your soul.
And they think they know everything.
But you don’t know that I dream of moving to a different country.
You don’t know that my stubbornness matches your own-
but I only use it when it seems worth the fight.
I hate to hurt people. But I will also do what I have to.
I drank when we were in Mexico.
And I thought it was funny when we got handcuffed.
I wasn’t afraid of you- just the explosion.
I try to be logical, but I’m a hopeless romantic
I won’t apologize for who I am, in spite of my apologetic nature.
And I do understand love- and I do love you.
In spite of everything. You are more than you know.
But I’ve also moved to a more objective plane of view.
And I’m glad that you saved yourself,
     even if there were some casualties along the way.

I’ll be here.
     Hoping for you.
     Loving you.
     Wishing for you.
     Feeling for you.
Maybe you’ll never be ready.
     But I’ll do my best to keep you safe.
          Or at least your memory.
     Maybe just my memory of you.

Sometimes a little sun and sand and laughter can heal a gaping, though invisible wound.
Maybe not forever, but it acts like a bandage.
The secret isn’t exactly moving on- not even forgetting.
          It’s more of a Remembering
Remembering that there is so much more than just the pain.

We are young.
But we have old souls.
Young bodies and old souls
have a tendency to wander and
          sometimes get lost.

Love is…unprecedented.
     Scary. Terrifying even.
How could you not be afraid to give all of yourself- your mind to another person.
A broken heart is more than literary.
     But love is more than a confession.
Love is worrying about them- when you haven’t talked in days, weeks even.
          Thinking about them because every little thing brings them to mind- where are you at? Are you okay? I hope that even though I’m lonely, you are having fun, you are safe.
     Know that you are loved.
Maybe they were even right when they said
          Love is pain.
     But- love is also joy. Love can bring a smile to your face even knowing that you were a passing thought in their mind.
          Joy because finding someone you don’t have to put up a façade for is a miracle-
     Love feels like magic.
         Love is magic- and for the cynics who don’t believe in magic- maybe they don’t understand.
     It’s more than chemistry in the brain- more than simple endorphins. I believe that- I have felt that.
     And it hurts- but it’s worth it- even though a future broken heart is practically guaranteed.
          Love is worth it. And that’s all that really matters in the end.

You told me I was ridiculous-
          That my fears were irrational.
And it’s true-
In no particular order, I’m afraid of:
Disappointing people.
Physical affection.
Drowning.
Public speaking.
Being alone.
Doctors.
Spiders.
-well, things that creep and crawl in general.
Getting kidnapped.
Hurting people, whether on purpose or as a byproduct of life.
Heights.
Loving people.
Car accidents.
Being completely honest.
          And they are all irrational-
But I’m still afraid.
Especially since you proved me right on far too many of those counts.

Of all of the things that fascinate me most about you,
Your eyes, your lips, your voice, your everything-
It’s your hands that continue to fascinate me.
They are skilled hands-
Capable of creating-
I could read your words all day, stare at your artwork,
And continue to find something new.
They are skilled hands-
Capable of playing the guitar-
I could listen to you serenade me all day long.
They are skilled hands-
Exploring my body,
Sending shivers up and down my spine.
And you are silly enough to ask me why I’m shaking,
When the reason should be quite obvious.
They are skilled hands-
And I could trace their lines for hours,
Learning all about them.
About their scars, about their past.
They are skilled hands,
Capable of incredible things.