Most girls I met were either sans-serif, Helvetica, or Arial.
They vary in size & shape but for the most part, they’re common.
Ubiquitous… But then you came into the picture and I became interested in us.
I met you for the first time but you looked too familiar.
You’re an unlocked fantasy that day dreams aspire to be.
The more I read your body, I discovered I manifested you in every poem or essay I ever wrote.
You were my Times New Roman: Conventional & Long lasting.
You spoke my language into great literature.
We spent countless all nighters together.
Even when we were pressed for time & had to force it, we produced beautiful work.
Some days I’m boastful, other days I’m modest. But when they ask me what I care about, I speak about you with great emphasis…
They were taught how to love as children.
They weren’t shown why.
The end result was supposed to be marriage. Like our parents. Used to.
They didn’t explain the steps you go through.
The stages in between “Hi” and “Goodbye”
Like. Lust. Infatuation. Unconditional love.
Deceit. Mistrust. Manipulation. Conditional love.
You became a trophy. Bragging rights.
Your mind knew better.
You deserved better.
But you weren’t a quitter…
You were made so many broken promises that your heart became your brain’s punching bag.
You tried to make it work. Instead you got worn out.
She gave up on love.
What was once a reality has been reduced into an unconnected imagination.
She forgot how to love.
By the time he met her, she was guarded.
She learned it was more important to protect yourself from men than to love someone else and lose yourself once again.
He didn’t stand a chance.
Every attempt was a battle between an ugly memory and a glimpse into a desirable romance.
I was fortunate to find her single
but the torture of rescuing her heart from limbo isn’t simple.
If nothing lasts forever then what’s the point of being together
to eventually part ways and wait for another?
We treat relationships as if we’re going to war…
So how long does it take for a purple heart to recover?