When I was young I remember
forever being distraught
and oh so sickeningly devoted
to a new girl every year or two.
I remember believing myself
better off dead than living
in the shadow of another.
It bothered me, and broke me,
that I was never a priority
or first pick for any of the girls
I believed myself to love.
In all reality, I did not even know,
truly know, what love was.
I see now it was infatuation.
For in youth love is a pretty face,
a decent personality,
and shared laughs.
Sometimes not even all three.
Now I know love does not
have requirements,
or tiny boxes to check off for standards.
No, love is an unexplainable,
completely enveloping,
unbreakable connection and completion
that you only know when you know.
You can’t ignore it, and you can’t **** it,
God knows I have tried in every way imaginable.
But not anymore.
For while I may write, and feel,
and break apart often,
about how badly it can hurt
to love someone so much it physically pains you
and not have that solidified....
I am thankful.
It’s very easy to tell someone
“all I want is for you to be happy.”
But it is incredibly hard to mean it
when you aren’t that source.
But when I said it to you the first time,
the words rolled off my tongue
so easily, and so genuinely,
it surprised me when I thought
I could never be surprised again.
Love is finding a smile
when you have barely even glimpsed happiness, let alone taste it,
because you know a part of her is happy.
Love is stabbing yourself,
and burning yourself,
every single day and ignoring it,
to offer your hand out to her
when she needs help up.
It’s living with the knowledge
that you will never taste her lips again, or feel the warmth and comfort of her arms around you,
sufficing for dreams at best,
and finding a way to be content
to just know she exists,
and she’s safe.
My mother thanked me before she died, not for us loving her, which we did,
but for being alive and letting her experience loving us.
I always thought I knew what she meant,
but sometimes I believe myself wiser than I truly am.
But I know now, for there is nothing better
than loving someone with every inch of you, past, present and future,
and not expecting the same in return.
Love is meant to be selfless,
and I thank you for letting me feel that.
Now when I die, I know I will leave with a faint smile,
and I will give my last thought to you.
Aug 15, 2019
Aug 15, 2019 at 3:19 PM UTC
When I was young I remember
forever being distraught
and oh so sickeningly devoted
to a new girl every year or two.
I remember believing myself
better off dead than living
in the shadow of another.
It bothered me, and broke me,
that I was never a priority
or first pick for any of the girls
I believed myself to love.
In all reality, I did not even know,
truly know, what love was.
I see now it was infatuation.
For in youth love is a pretty face,
a decent personality,
and shared laughs.
Sometimes not even all three.
Now I know love does not
have requirements,
or tiny boxes to check off for standards.
No, love is an unexplainable,
completely enveloping,
unbreakable connection and completion
that you only know when you know.
You can’t ignore it, and you can’t **** it,
God knows I have tried in every way imaginable.
But not anymore.
For while I may write, and feel,
and break apart often,
about how badly it can hurt
to love someone so much it physically pains you
and not have that solidified....
I am thankful.
It’s very easy to tell someone
“all I want is for you to be happy.”
But it is incredibly hard to mean it
when you aren’t that source.
But when I said it to you the first time,
the words rolled off my tongue
so easily, and so genuinely,
it surprised me when I thought
I could never be surprised again.
Love is finding a smile
when you have barely even glimpsed happiness, let alone taste it,
because you know a part of her is happy.
Love is stabbing yourself,
and burning yourself,
every single day and ignoring it,
to offer your hand out to her
when she needs help up.
It’s living with the knowledge
that you will never taste her lips again, or feel the warmth and comfort of her arms around you,
sufficing for dreams at best,
and finding a way to be content
to just know she exists,
and she’s safe.
My mother thanked me before she died, not for us loving her, which we did,
but for being alive and letting her experience loving us.
I always thought I knew what she meant,
but sometimes I believe myself wiser than I truly am.
But I know now, for there is nothing better
than loving someone with every inch of you, past, present and future,
and not expecting the same in return.
Love is meant to be selfless,
and I thank you for letting me feel that.
Now when I die, I know I will leave with a faint smile,
and I will give my last thought to you.
Request permission to use this poem