My love for you lives at I-95
Right past the exit for Towson
Where we stopped at Lito's for pizza
After we kissed for the first time
I passed I-95 today and didn't remember
Those soft kisses in back seats
Until I saw that pizza shop sign
I could see myself, 13 and blossoming
Holding tightly to your hand
It was like I was standing outside of your dad's car
Looking in at the events that just unfolded
That thirteen year old that won the bet with her friend for having her first kiss
It wasn't why that thirteen year old wanted it though
She just mustered up the courage to move her face close enough
So that the tiniest amount of contact could be made
It was intended to be soft and meaningful, the first of many
But it turned out off-centered and askew
But it was lovely
You, thirteen and dream like, were shocked
Yet intrigued, so you kissed me next time
Then it went back and forth
Alternating kisses, testing the feelings of new connections
Tingling fingers, tapping toes

Little does he know
That while he thinks he is doing well
That he is moving on
He will soon know the truth
That loving others is just a facade to distract himself
From dealing with moving on from what happened
It will hit him
One night, it will hit him
While he is laying alone in his bed, he will know
He will think of a joke or a memory that will knock him back in time
Back to square one
He will have to start all over again
Trying to claw his way back into reality
One where together doesn't belong
Perhaps he won't feel it
But I am expecting that he will
He will know that she isn't truly erased from his mind
On one lonely night not too far from now
Because he doesn't know that when you love someone else
When all the pink clouds and sparkles are gone
Is when you understand your true feelings

The days where you just feel okay in yourself are my favorite
Where others don't abraise you like an itchy wool sweater
Where trouble doesn't sit in your stomach like bad pasta
Where you can float along, just being you
Feeling confident that your face is fashioned in just the right way
That your tights are pulled up
That your shirt is pulled down
Those days where you just embrace the fact that others talk
But it doesn't have to define you
I know I have trouble with this
I think we all do
Others talking is a great part of the things that make me unhappy
I think "Well, if only that person wouldn't be talking about me, I would be happier"
But when the truth is, I can choose whether or not to listen
I can choose whether or not to sit with them
Or whether or not I believe something someone else is saying about my life
Because we all know that other people are the experts on all our problems
Fastening their opinions of us based off the exterior of our faces
Well, if there is someone who knows more about me than I know myself
Come, please have me meet them, because I would sure like the answer key to life's book of problems
Because perhaps they play God, too.

It doesn't have to be some huge ordeal
Not a clash and clamor of pots and pans
Or the thunder of lightning
It doesn't have to make a ruckus

I want that kind of quiet love
The one that sits next to you on the couch
But doesn't have to say anything
Because it knows that you don't always have to talk

I want that kind of love
Where you go to the same diner together every Saturday
Playing hangman and connect the dots
On the back of worn-out, faded pink and blue, advertisement place mats
While you order the same meal because it is tried and true

I want that love where you can go to the supermarket together
Just wandering aimlessly through isles
Deciding on what to make for dinner
Debating over whether $4.99 is a proper price to pay for Rigatoni

That love where you can sing in the car
Along with the radio
Even though you are horribly off key and so am I
But it doesn't matter
Music was never our forte anyway

I want that quiet kind of love
I guess what I really want is friendship

We always want what lies behind
Door number two