Quite a few years from now,
my daughter will be twelve.
And all her friends will start
to think about things like
first kisses and winter dances,
and I know she will ask me
what my first love had been like.
And when that happens,
I'm going to smile
(though it may be bittersweetly)
as I remember
driving around aimlessly with you
singing along to bad radio stations
and exploring our town
to find the best local coffeeshops.
I'll remember nights
in our high school arts building
when nobody else was around
looking at the newest pictures
the photography class pinned up,
and how gentle you were
whenever our lips met.
I'll remember how no matter
how close you held me,
I always wanted it to be closer.
I'll remember exactly the way
that your favorite scarf smelled,
and the safety I felt
when you'd pull me into your arms.

I don't know what else will happen
between today and the day my daughter asks,
but whenever it is,
the answer to that question
will always be you—
so I want you to know
I can't thank you enough
for a story that makes me glad
I let myself fall in love with you.