When I was 16
I thought love was a miracle.
Stars aligning and a lightning strike.
I just had to wait,
be in the right place -
a classroom, a gym class, a Target -
and my hair and my body and my acne and and my teeth and my body and my body and my body,
wouldn't matter.
I would know what it felt like
to be happy.
When I was 18
I thought love was a cure.
I developed an aching.
A gnawing emptiness;
and I couldn't tell where I began anymore.
Like a moss on a rock,
sadness made my body a home and
my tears kept it growing.
Growing,
Growing-
gone.
I was tragedy
and love, of course Love,
would save me.
When I was 20
I thought love was a game.
I fell in love with a someone
who never wanted to love me.
The pain was...
excruciating -
and I had never felt more alive.
It was the thrill of strategy, you see.
Get a little skinnier,
buy a better bra,
send drunk texts that you
can blame on blacking out,
flirt with other men,
touch other men,
kiss other men,
lay with other men.
Lose yourself in other men.
Lose the game.
I learned that love was never meant
for playing.
When I met you
I thought love was fear.
Loving you was
like holding a butterfly
too tight - killing it
when you were only
trying to keep it safe.
You, you, you,
beautiful and honest and fierce,
you loved me like answering a prayer.
I loved you like a nightmare.
The fear was suffocating.
and we had to die
before I could wake.
Honey,
I am awake now.
Today I love you
and this love is
river water flowing,
even breathing.
Steady.
Love is trust.
(Don't mind my shaking hands, darling.
I'm not scared, this is just a reflex.)
You are the definition of risk and reward and I do love you so.
I love you determined, I love you brave, I love you happily.
You are the calm and the reality and the quiet observer andthe hand to hold.
I am the hurricane and the optimist and the hand-shaker and the declaration of love.
We are not the same but
I am 22 and,
I think
I believe
I know,
we are love.