I’ll never forget how you called me beautiful
when I climbed off the back of that quad covered in mud and took my helmet off
to reveal matted hair sticking to random places
on my head. When I woke up next to you
and had those crusty things in the corners of my eyes that partnered with
the gross smell of morning breath that you still kissed me when I had.
I’ll never forget how you called me beautiful
when I walked down the stairs into the living room and you saw me in that dress
you said you’d been imagining me in since you asked me to prom
more than a month ago. When I started to ramble on and on
about something I read or saw online that was completely irrelevant to anything that was said
all day.
I’ll never forget how you called me beautiful
like it was my name
every morning when you kissed me goodbye before leaving for work, every night when we were arguing
over what movie to watch and how many bags of popcorn to make, at random times
like during dinner at that little diner when I had just taken a big bite of pasta or when you surprised me at work
with my hair up and covered in three different kinds of fudge.
You called me beautiful every day until one day it turned into
darling, you’re beautiful, but…