I used to think that love was like math before I met you,
I thought it was something
that you built up to.
Like arithmetic and multiplication, I thought the feelings learned from first kisses
and love letters would eventually add up like variables to some some grand equation. I was curious for love.
I looked for lessons of love wherever I could, in songs, books, and movies.
Time passed, and I waited.
In some lonelier moments I became very afraid. I was afraid I was too behind, too
broken and too stupid for love.
But then I met you.
Love came in quiet moments.
It came in the soothing warmth felt while we sat embraced
on a hilltop observing the sunset.
It came in your soft voice as we laid out on your bedroom floor and you sang along to your favorite record.
It came in the tenderness felt with your skin first pressed up against mine.
Love is not learned or taught. Love is not like math.
Love is more like flight.
Just like it is in birds to fly and plants to grow
it is in every person to love and be loved.
We are all just waiting for the right time and the right light.
Love comes now, years later
in numbing waves, as I drink this warm wine and think of you.
I loved you.
I still love you.