The first time someone broke my heart
was the day I cried for 2 hours straight
to my "boy best friend"
shocked into silence by my tears,
he repeated "it'll be okay"
over and over again
I didn't believe him.

And my first taste of abandonment
were very much like burns while
playing with fire
but instead of raw, throbbing fingers
the pain came in the form of
tears, its taste salty from
pent up resentment and hurt
it scarred me
and left me weary of those who approached

The first time I broke someone's heart,
we were approaching our sixth month
the brief exchanges of apologies and goodbyes
left me short of breathe
and i might not have 'loved' him
but the dull, throbbing ache 'goodbyes' left me
made me wonder otherwise

and the first time I found out what it meant to let go
it left me with a chill that would not go away, not
even if i stood under the blazing sun,
hours on ends
and when tears failed me,
I turned to shiny blades and pain
that dulled the throbbing of my heart
Promising myself, I would never find another
I holed myself up against anyone that stood too close,
masking the vulnerability that was crystal clear to everyone else

And the first time I fell in love
It was with a boy whose silence spoke louder than his words ever could
and though his past was tear-stained and broken,
he was not.

And my first taste of real love
did not give me butterflies in my stomach
but the silent strength to
heal the damage I afflicted to myself after
every tear,
every pain,
every heartbreak.
I could begin to love myself again.

And yes, I know
"Happy endings" only happen in childrens' book
and we will find hurt and anguish in every corner
we expect to find bliss and happiness
as if mocking our efforts of contentment
but each time i'm close to tears,
I'll remember how perfectly our hands fit,
and I guess that will be enough,
for me, at least

{d.c}