The funny thing about love is people are always trying to tell you how to feel it.

"You hardly know the guy, you can't be in love."
"You're too young to be in love."
We've heard it all before.
From my experience though,

Love has no time constraints.
Yes, love is complicated,
But it is also very simple.

I knew I loved him when
I heard him laugh for the first time.
when I watched his eyes light up,
while he talked about airplanes.

I knew I loved him
when he made me an egg volcano for breakfast
and we pretended to be his roommate's parents.
(even though I had never met his roommate before that)

I knew I loved him
when I sat across from him on the dock
and watched the starlight dance on his face.
when I felt like I could tell him anything.

I knew I loved him when
he told me he had to leave.
I knew there wouldn't be a spot missing
in my heart where he once existed.
But a spot that he still lived
and bloomed,
where my heart still throbbed for him.

Where I still smelled his cologne,
heard him laughing,
felt his lips pressed against mine.

I would cry,
boy would I cry.
But I knew I would love him forever.

Strength is a fragile, fragile thing.

One minute.
I'm a warrior.
Sword drawn,
***** face in tow.

The next
I am putty
in your palms.
Transformed to tears.

I am
Tree trunks, home base, hard rain.
Dark days.
Wild fire.
Blue skies.
Emerald eyes.

I am racing thoughts.
Violent love.
Morning sun.

I am not done.
Gas pedal.
Unsettled.
Laughter.
New chapters.

Leaps and bounds,
Lost not yet found.
Steady.
But uneasy.
See me?
I do.
I am.

your love is like sun kissed skin in june
like the smell of sunscreen and the pool
like the glow of the green, green grass.

your love is like gentle kisses brushing my freckles
like learning the ukulele, joyful and bright
like perfect toothy smiles.
like long sunny bike rides.

loving you is like embracing summer.

When she's angry
folding a towel becomes
an undertaking that causes everyone in the room
To flinch each time a fold is made

her movements are pointed
sharp
like a needle
used to embroider the word
failure on your forehead
like a scarlet letter

When she's angry
you'll never see it coming
until
the pigmentation in her neck
slowly creeps
from ivory
to a shining crimson
piece of armor
preparing her for battle
preparing her to unleash
her barbed tongue

When she's angry
you tip-toe around
what you truly want to say
dancing on glass
shard in foot
you smile as if
you don't notice

When she's angry
I love you
comes out as
a bee sting
you may experience
swelling at the site
instant, sharp pain
and a welt where your heart
should be
When she's angry

Sometimes
it's hard
to stop and notice
the things around you.

My son tilts his head
up to the sky
and announces,
"mom
the clouds
are decorations!"

The clouds
indeed
decorated the sweet
morning sunrise.

Peppered in
nonsense patterns.
For you and I
to marvel at.

Decorations.
What wonder
to see life
through your eyes.

I'm sad in the way where my laugh won't be the same when you're gone.
How sitting in silence with anyone else will feel wrong.

I'm sad in the way that I will miss how
he rubs my hand in the theater.
and I watch him watch the movie.
Because his face feels like home,
I've memorized every feature.

How I can never erase
slow dancing to jazz music at your place.
How you never actually kissed me on our first date.

But realized this mistake and
ran across town the next day,
to press your lips against mine.

I'll never be able to make up for all the lost time.

who am I kidding,
I can't even pretend.
Nothing can prepare me for this to come to an end.

I stopped writing pretty words for you.
Now I cry instead.