The First Times
Love was the first time I saw you,
Sitting across from me in that backseet,
Linda making fun of the awkwardness in the car.
Love was the first touch of your hand,
When I shook it for the first time,
My stomach dropping because of the fluttering butterflies.
Love was our first kiss,
Awkward because I missed the center of your lips,
But you did not pull away.
Love was the first slow dance we shared,
Your rough hands on my hips,
My cheeks burning from blushing so hard.
Love was the first time you told me a secret.
It was hard for you;
I could see that in your eyes.
Love was our first argument.
How we said we were sorry for three hours,
And remembered why we loved each other.
Love was when we realized we were wrong.
When you came over and told me that it was time to go down different paths,
And how my heart shattered into a million pieces.
Love was lying on the bathroom floor,
Not knowing what to do with myself,
Not knowing how I would ever survive this.
Love was your eighteenth birthday,
When I was not there,
But I desperately wanted to be.
Love was when we graduated high school.
We had not spoken in over a year,
But I still saw you sitting next to my parents even though you were not.
Love was when you left for bootcamp.
I had been counting the days,
Wishing I was by your side.
Love was when I saw the picture of you in your Dress Blues.
I cried because I was so proud you,
Because all your dreams and ambitions were reality.
Love was when I let you go,
Because I knew I was not right for you,
Because I loved you enough to say goodbye.