this is a voicemail to the girl I’ll never call

beep

Hey, remember how you used to tell me that you couldn’t wait to see the world?
The first place you wanted to travel to was Paris, you said that it’s just something
you have to do.
You told me all of the things in Paris that you wanted to do, like shop in thrift stores
and look across the city on top of the Eiffel Tower, hope to see a celebrity and take pictures with them.
We both knew that there were various school programs to study abroad but you didn’t want to go to school there, you just wanted to enjoy life there, for just a while.. not too long, not too brief.. at most, two weeks.
I wondered if you’d send postcards back home or bring back some goodies that you stumbled upon.
I couldn’t wait to hear the stories you’d tell me.

beep

It’s me again, I bought a journal with the Eiffel Tower printed on the front, all of the pages were blank.
I started to fill them in.
Suddenly, weeks went by and I realized that only one page had been inked.
It’s not like I had writers block or I didn’t know what to say to you, I just…
for the first time, I just wasn’t able to say or do anything.
Everything was silent, the pages, silent.
The ink, invisible.
The communication, gone.
I tried to go back time after time to ink the blanks, but nothing ever came out.
I’m still waiting for the stories.

beep

I miss you.

beep

This is my third attempt on this one voicemail.
I’m not ashamed to say that I got emotional in the last one, lucky for you, I deleted it.
Now it’s off somewhere in dead space.
I wonder If you’ve been to Paris yet.
I wonder if you’ve seen the city there, late night.
The way the tower glows, the way the city flows, its magical.
It’s almost like a wonderland.
I wonder if you remembered my mailing address for the postcards…
Maybe you sent them and they got lost in transit.
Its the thought that counts. Someday, they’ll find a home.
Someday, you’ll return home.

beep

I think I’ve ran out of things to say.
I’ll stop calling…

beep

I want to see the world too. I want to go places that I never thought I’d go.
I walk to climb mountains, cross vast rivers, sail the oceans, I want to live.
I want to bike across Europe, horseback the country in America, Ride a camel in the great Saharan desert, find love in Paris…
find love in paris…
find love in..

beep

I promise, this will be the last time.
This will be the last time.
I just have one last thing to say.
It’s been far more than two weeks
I wonder why I’ve been waiting for the stories,
when in reality I could tell my own.
I could have a pin pal
I could study abroad
I could learn french, travel to quebec
I could learn french, road trip to Louisiana
I could learn french, and speak the language of love
still, I wait to hear your stories…

*beep

“I keep telling myself maybe we were too young, like meeting at 15 years old wasn’t old enough for you to keep me around. I guess we both had a lot of living left to do like new people to meet, other people to ‘love’ and new places to see. But as the days turn into months and months will eventually turn into years do you go looking for me in others, do you do things that we used to do, just so i cross your mind on purpose? When you are 18 and realize you can make your own decisions, without your high school friends that you don’t see anymore or when your parents finally get off your back, will you look me up on some social media site and realize I look different like my hair is shorter and I dyed it blonde, will you look at my smile and realize I don’t smile the way I used to smile when we were young and in love, will you notice little changes that only you and I would notice? Do you ever think of your future and hope somehow someday we will meet again, the same way we met that first time when we were both 15 and never felt love like this before… I know for sure that days turned into months and even when they turn into years my love for you will never die, until I do. But even when I’m six feet under your voice will still remain in my ears and your touch is all my skin will feel and your face is all my eyes will see, but at least I won’t be able to feel the aching pain in my heart every time I hear your name or when someone asks me about my first love.”

I remember that first day I saw him, noticed him
I was young, we were both young
Are young
His eyes glimmered with sadness and mystery and I knew
I wanted to know that boy
Afraid and uncertain I forgot, but then he came back
Older, still mysterious and more attractive that ever
How could I forget
That face the smile that told me he was uncertain too, and that was okay
Everything would be okay
I fell in love harder than a rock hits the ground from a thousand feet above
That's where I was one thousand feet in the air, I was flying like I've never flown before
That trust, that unconditional love scared me to death
And again I tried to forget
Pushing him away and wanting so bad for him to hold on
He was hurt, I was hurt
We had destroyed each other I thought it was the end
I was wrong
There he was again those eyes, sad mysterious eyes
And then came the smile telling me it would all be okay
He saved me, I saved him
I always will and I know, so will he

I am not much of a poet, and it takes a whole lot of poet to write a love poem
Sappy and happy never read as well as blood, sweet, and tears
And years of turmoil has always aid me
But lately, I’v been hastily and systematically fathoming how to make words fit
Like our bodies do at sundown, when we are the only light inside a dark room
Just beaming at one another, why bother… cheesy isn’t easy .. but I try
I try to find the powerful words that will describe the electricity that pulsates from us
We are the biggest power source around, if only I found the words to say it right
I am not much of a poet, and it takes a whole lot of poet to write a real love poem
But if I tried to write a love poem, it would be about you
About how your smile is a sun rise after endless nights
About how I only know your strength because you pull me in close
Like I weigh nothing and my baggage is just a carry on, nothing that can’t be handled
Never pushing me away or hurting, your strength is seen in your gentleness
I would explain how you make stretch marks feel like beauty marks
How you make sun kisses feel cool, how you make heartbeats in to drums, how you make a guitar sing, and your voice vibrates and rolls something between honey and heaven.
I would write about how you have endless energy and ambition
Charisma and endless potential that grabs at every opening door
I would write about how you grow friendships and flowers like they are one in the same
And how you love and invest in both
How you read like a scholar and chase after things only brave men chase after
I am not much of a poet but if I were I would paint in words for you the most vibrant expressions
Of lust and love and tinder kindness
Lay down words like bricks to build you up
Show how you are the one I searched and found worth finding
How we light up, show how exciting…..
Im not a love poet, not much of a poet at all…
But either way you are worth the fall, you deserve a love poem.