it's easy to fall for someone near the beginning,
because we're allured by new things and the parts we don't know about someone yet
so i don't fault you for asking if i'll get tired of us
when you think there's less to be curious about,
when it's not all new,
or when the images of who we think the other person is
gets replaced with who we actually are.

the same thought crosses my mind,
but then i think out loud and talk about my favorite song:
how years later i still discover sounds or vocals i didn't notice the countless times i played the song before,
how different the experience of listening to it is when i play the song through my car speakers or my headphones,
or how different my favorite song makes me feels when i listen to it on my good and bad days.

i look at you as you listen to my run-on sentences and bad analogies,
and feel comfort that you listened and accepted my answer.
i question to myself if it was a good one, because i thought it was too early to have said the alternative,

that you shouldn't worry, and that i loved you.

a feeling of sorrow weighs on me when i wonder if
somebody else would have loved the parts of me i discarded
to be the person i thought you wanted

insecurities i developed while with you
still show on me like tattoos
i have yet to cover

i let go of the part of me that allowed myself to get my hopes up
so instead of feeling hurt i rarely feel anything

but when i start to care for someone
i can't help but to think that somebody else
would be a better fit for them

in the past year i've learned to care for myself a little better but
a feeling of sorrow weighs on me
when i reminisce about my younger self who thought i could be the right person for someone

closer to when we started,
one quiet afternoon, we're laying down and you ask,
"are you sure you like me, or do you like the way i make you feel?"

i think about the difference and your reason for wondering, and say,
"well, anyone important to me makes me feel good to be around them. i like you and how you make me feel."

you think about my answer and say "that's fair,"
in the tone you always have when we talk about us,
gentle and kind-hearted.

you were okay with my answer,
but when the conversation plays back in my head months later,
i think my answer was honest,
but i wish it could have been then
that i decided to say

"don't worry, i love you."

time passes by.
at this point you've been a stranger to me longer
than someone i knew

and yet when i pass by flowers
i remind myself of the only ones you liked
as if i'm trying not to forget and
as if i have any use for the tidbits of information i still haven't thrown away.

but enough time has passed
that i don't feel down from just seeing you,
as if i'm done grieving the ideas of what could have been

after a long while
i stop avoiding the song that we sang in your car,
the song that would have been my most played if
i hadn't stopped listening to it after we stopped talking

most days i'm convinced i don't think of you,
but in either case, i know
time passes by
and the hurt heals (slowly).

i can't help but to take photos of the sky in front and above me.
how blue the sky is, the amount of clouds that occupy it, and how the sunlight touches everything under it,
it keeps me standing in the open in awe

it takes me another second or two to wonder
how this is the same sky i've gazed upon the year prior

i question if the view changed
or if i changed enough to realize how beautiful it is

i can feel the blessings more deeply nowadays
in the the littlest of things
like the joy in the laughs around me,
or how rewarding lemonade tastes at the day's end.

lately more than ever,
to the ones i speak to, i ask if they've been looking up at the sky
hoping they can see and feel what i do.

even if i had met you earlier,
before your heart shut itself in to protect you,
you still might not have loved me.

and that's okay.

so i can't be too sad about the circumstances,
when you ask for space
or when you ask if we can slow down
but still,
i want to let you know
you're safe with me.

this isn't me saying i'll wait forever for you to heal
because i deserve to feel love too, with or without you.

this is me saying that
even if you never want to love anyone again,
you can count on me to want you to feel safe, loved, and healed.

periodically during breaks i sit down with two of my coworkers.
i forget what prompted the conversation,
but i told one of my coworkers i could tell he had never been in love before.
he asked, "how do you know if i've never said so?"

i explained it overconfidently,
"well, you've told us before when things start to get serious, you start to pull back. i think, if you've experienced love before, you wouldn't be so afraid to feel it again. but also, if you've experienced it and lost it, i think it would show in your perspectives on life, loss, and relationships."

even though i was right about him, i was probably projecting a little.

maybe never experiencing love "for real" is what keeps me open to it. and for someone else, maybe the pain of losing it is enough reason to not want it anymore.

that could never be me—

i'm not scared to get hurt if things fall through again;
i just want a love that's worth the potential heartbreak.
i don't want fear to hold me back from experiencing this thing called "love."