When I first met you, I was a free spirit, sure. I had these dreams that I believed were so much bigger than anything this small town could offer me. I wanted to stand out somehow, rebel in a way that others hadn’t yet discovered. I didn’t want to be forgotten, and my mind was running in circles, making me dizzy, making me want to stop and stare at the sky to try to find the meaning that was once so obvious before our lives decided to interweave. You give my spirit purpose, and you make me feel as if there’s more to me than the words that so clumsily spill out of my mouth or the impulsive choices I constantly partake in which always seem to land me in trouble.
You always have this beautiful, unique, simple outlook on the world that I like to perceive as hope. You chose to hope that the love in hearts will shine through, and that the good in the mind of man will cure the most corrupted of perspectives and fix the world. You hope that one day the world will be safer, better, brighter, and for me, you having that hope is enough.
You’ve always made me feel like I’m enough, for everything I am. When I’m at my worst, blinded with anger and rage, wanting justice for myself and wanting some peace at the end of a blurry violent storm, you make me see sense. You remind me that this world, this life, my life is worth it. You remind me that I have the power to chose how I wish to live, and that if I continue with anger, I won’t ever find jubilation in a town filled with opportunities and better paths to walk along.
When I am at my best, smiling huge with pride of the morals I’ve managed to upkeep, feeling lighter with each step as if I am walking closer and closer to an eternal space of divine love and paradise, you’re there. I know you are, I can feel it. You share with my joy, always. You keep me balanced, and remind me that I’m worth more than the worst of my flaws or the moments of haze of poor decisions influenced by intense pain.
When I feel as if the trivial things that should bring me happiness aren’t worth my memory or comment, you show me that they most certainly are. That I should be proud of the little things, and that I have support and allies along the way to help me reach all my dreams I can’t obtain in this small town. That’s why I wrote this for you. I wrote every word in this short, seemingly unimpressive story for you.
It’s what I’ve always wanted to tell you, but my poor attempts at wording it have always got in the way. Without further ado, here is a memory, a story, a piece of my mind that was created because of you. You are my sunshine, my happiness, my light, and it’s a shame you’ll never know it. Maybe, somehow, by some miracle, you’ll understand what these scribbled, late night fits of words mean to you. Maybe some day you’ll accept my gratitude for the weight you help me carry throughout every day of my life. I’m so in love with you, this is my best at trying not to do an injustice to that feeling by putting it into words.
You were such a simple fool. A happy, naive, giant, bouncing puppy that soaked up every ounce of happiness there could be to find, then you extended it to all who surrounded you. You were so young, a mind so pure, one presumed touch from me would be enough to make it all come down to ruins.
I knew from the start I would find some way to hold your light without it being darkened by my immense fits of startling storms. Ah, storms. Surely, you must keep those in the most forbidden place of your memory. Those storms were the beginning, the very start of the twisting tragedy that was our entwined fates. They’re what compelled me to make that first choice, the decision that changed us both for good. And to think, on that day all you heard was the annoying patter of a much familiar rain.
When lightning burst in fits of color, I saw unattainable beauty, a force larger than life, bubbling regrets from the past, love gone wrong tales told by God in the boldest, most passionate of ways. Every color was a fear or a dash of hope; what pure irony it was how quickly they changed.
Then the thunder, hoof beats of horses bringing two young lovers to their new home. Unwinding clocks, simultaneous clapping hands for an unknown star from another unknown town. The water and wind made for a warning, “you shouldn’t dare leave your place of refuge, not yet, the timing is off. Light a candle, gather the youngest of kin and listen to the story. Listen to the retellings by angels of the past.”
Every bang is a man who outstretched his hand and ended a war. When the sky darkens and the clouds fill the air with a bitter sense of isolation, in another life, the sun is there. I like to think the sun is with you, and the rest of the world is observing this astounding sight that was born out of the warmest of rays and the few stars that fell.
When I was with you, these thoughts never burdened my mind with their constant desire for me to share them with pen. The imaginative aspects of every being on Earth were silenced, and the only present feeling was that of a still contentment.
We were fond, as we each shared in the warmth of the others company, and for once in my life I was too happy to think. Not about our muddy rain boots silent disapproval in the corner, not about the open curtains casting creeping shadows along the wall, not about my thick, concerning cough or yours for that matter. We only laid on the ground, with the chilling air in our ears and the bliss of being united one last time.
As the perfectly round drops of rain echoed against the tin roof, you breathed in and I did the same. The horses brought the two lovers home, the angels sang their harmonic ending notes, the clock struck the time we both desired the most, and the man who stopped the war started the journey to peace. The room was quiet, and a hazy sun sloped to greet our mutually blissful expressions. As it shone, and as our eyes met, I felt your light and I fell in love.
Thank you so much for reading 🙂 I’m very proud of what I wrote, and I hope the person I wrote this for understands how much they mean to me. Much love,