"drunk enough to say that I love you"
I fell in love so quickly my first time it left me stunned, my chest heaving and squeezing till the point of pain, my mind inert and quite useless.
We were cruising down a highway with the sunroof open, and she had her head poking through and streams of white-blonde hair flowing behind her. I picked a scenic route and drove past the ocean as the sunrise hit. We sang along to the radio and when she sat back down, her face glowed like her eyes had trapped the sunlight. She smiled so softly and in an instant I couldn’t think.
It hurt. I didn’t expect that, I didn’t expect love to feel like a constant sucker punch to the gut, didn’t expect my lungs to be straining for air all the time.
It was a dance. That was the very first thing I learned.
We had to swing in tandem, had to trust as the other was dipped to the floor. I would hold so tightly as I spun her. I was always terrified to let go.
Love was one move after another, step by step by step. It required an innate sense of the other’s mind, the instincts you could only understand after a lifetime of selling your heart to another. The kind of sensation you’d only ever feel if that love was pure and real and existed.
She left me at the old cafe on Fifth Street, the place with yellowed lights and her favorite muffins.
But it was her step, her choice.
I don’t know what I could have done to make her stay, to hear her contagious giggles or feel the warmth of her hand in mine.
Maybe I should’ve tried.
I spiraled into darkness, a lone partner in an abandoned ballroom, waltzing away to music no one could hear.
Love hurt, before and after. That was the given, the solid factor. It felt like a dagger lodged in my abdomen because it was real, to me. I fell in love, and she didn’t.
Review : What a beautiful retelling of your first love. You had me captivated at the beginning and my heart broke with you at the end. Thank you for sharing your soul. Great piece. Keep on writing ❤