I swear the day I met you, I knew you were going to be something, but when we talked for the first time, you could hardly meet my eyes. The first time we kissed, I turned away as you went in for a hug, and I raced away to my class out of embarassment. The first time we held hands, it felt disjointed, as if your hand was too big for mine, and had to stay open to accomodate for the difference in size. The first time you made me cry, you didn’t apologize, and it was not the last. The first time we got back together, it was all the same, and it ended again. And again. The first time I looked you in the eyes and walked away without saying a word, I felt as if the pulsation in my veins ran slow. The second time we met, it was different, and I could feel that you had grown a little without me. When we kissed, it was the first time I didn’t want to let go, and when we held hands it was like they were made for eachother, like a lock and key. When you made me cry, it was because I was so entranced by the way your words rolled off your tongue that I forgot how to blink, and when I looked in your eyes and walked away without saying a word, it was because I knew what you wanted to say, but you couldn’t spit it out, and it hung low in your glistening eyes as you looked at me. I was told to swear not to submit to the things you may persuade me to do, but your love was my biggest persuasion and you touched my naked soul in ways your hands could never accomplish. Now, every night we promise to wake up and still want eachother, and I can’t help but think back to where this all started. A few words was all it took, and I was yours indefinitely.