At 16, I wouldn’t think I’d be like this.
I was all the chaos of rock n’ roll in ripped jeans and dirty Chuck Taylors.
I hated school. Authority in general.
I was nothing but carefree. There was something about rule breaking that was so addicting. It was so easy to escape reality because I walked my world alone.
Well, until you came in.
I was still the same. I was just no longer alone.
Black and white was pretty for a while. But everything was so different when you painted my town with all the colors.
I called you my first love because you couldn’t be anyone else.
I’ve had strong feelings for people before you. But what I felt with you was more than electric.
I was nothing but afraid to lose you. Because it was a possibility. No one can own anyone. And it was terrifying because I just wanted you around for a long time.
I’ve never been that way with anyone. I don’t think I’ll ever be that way with anyone.
I spent 17 with you. By this time, we talked about the future. Which I didn’t know I had until you came alone.
I wanted to waste my life away after high school.
But then you told me your plans and how I was part of it. How you wanted our children to have my eyes and my laughter, specifically.
You loved holding my hand and telling me you loved me.
You laughed all the time and we always snuck out of town and got in trouble all the time.
But damn I loved that high.
When we turned 18, things started to crumble.
Nothing’s ever seemed so blur before. I finally knew what they meant when they said sadness feels like rocks on your chest. Except mine were boulders. I lifted them everyday.
Suddenly, your plans changed. Our standards split and for some reason, every time we spoke, we broken each other’s hearts.
Lonely struck me. My queen sized bed wasn’t my favorite place anymore. I hated Sundays and the after hours. Oh how my life changed after you.
I thought emotional pain was all in the mind that you could get rid of if you tried hard enough and got distracted all the time.
But emotional pain was the weight on my chest. The dark mornings. The feeling of drowning when midnight struck. The box of cigarettes I’d finish in one afternoon and the missing lighter after my 3rd box.
I couldn’t look at people the same anymore because I felt ugly. I knew I lost the color in my eyes.
Things didn’t go back to black and white. Everything changed to more of an unattractive shade of gray.
In the midst of destruction, I found comfort. But I could never let anyone in anymore. I never did.
But pain didn’t stop me from the plans I had. I just had to subtract you from it.
It was difficult. But I managed to move on from the awful mornings I had and started making friends again.
But it’s not a lie.
I’m 27 and I still keep your sweater in my closet. I never wear it though. It just reminds me that I did have a home once.
And each time I visit my parents, I drive by your street.
Hoping you’d actually smile when you’d see me.
That maybe we could pick up where we left off.
But then I’m too afraid to ring your doorbell.
Cause your mother loved me. And I’d feel welcome.
And I’d look for you again.
And I wouldn’t wanna leave cause I know I’m home.