I wish that I could say that our love was one like you read in books.
But it was not.
Our love was slow.
You had issues,
That I couldn’t handle.
I had issues,
That you couldn’t handle.
Our love was not at first sight.
Though we knew that there was something special about the other.
Our love was not sweet words and calming touches.
It was soft glances and random phone calls.
And when we kissed,
Fireworks did not go off.
We didn’t even have a spark.
Our lips didn’t mold together perfectly.
And her lips weren’t soft against mine.
Our teeth clashed and her lips were chapped.
But I knew that even though our love was slow.
That it was indeed love.
There were no racing hearts and whispered I love you’s.
Just soft gazes and random phone calls.
There was no denying that I love you.
I would have taken a bullet for you.
I would have risked anything in the world for you.
I would have changed myself completely for you.
And you would have done the same for me.
And even now,
I love you,
Is rarely said.
Because neither of us needs to say it.
We already know.
Our love wasn’t one like the books.
We didn’t live happily ever after.
We had fights and still do.
We have times where we never see each other.
We have times where we don’t talk for a few days.
Not beause we don’t love each other.
But because this is life.
And sometimes life gets in the way.
Our love wasn’t one like the books.
But our love was special.
Our love,
Was,
Our Love.
And our love wasn’t like the books.
It was the bitter truth.
But it was the sweetest bitter thing I’ve ever had.