One day,
whether you're just a roller coaster of a memory
or the one sleeping next to me at night,
I'll always remember how it was you.
It was always you.
It has always been you.
The one I loved at sixteen,
seventeen,
eighteen.

The one I loved in the dark and in the sunrise.
In the secret hallows of the night
and the transparency of thanksgiving day with our families.

The long string of nights I spent crying and breaking inside
longing for you to love me back.
Never thinking it was a possibility.

Until you surprised me.

You're the boy I kissed at seventeen...
eighteen...
the first one.
The hopeful last one.