Who might have thought this could happen so fast?
Boy talks to girl. Girl falls in love. Boy smiles.
“Two little love birds in a big world,” you said.
Did you know then, what it meant to me? I was chasing fireworks, running after dreams.
They didn’t even involve you.
I was trying to make something more out of what I had. Ignore anything that made me sad.
(You made me happy.)
Later that night, dear, you said you loved me. I wondered if it were true.
Lord knows I never deserved you.
Lord knows I never will.
But that’s why you told me you loved me anyway.
“If anyone on this planet deserves it, it’s you. You deserve love.”
You even told me how I deserved better than you.
(…I bet you don’t think that now.)
Do you remember a Saturday morning about eight months ago?
You walked across the park grounds, around the lake, looking for what?
Looking for me.
And there I was, sitting. I was staring at the lake. The way the shadows danced on the tension of the surface.
I was looking anywhere but at you.
And then you were there.
I didn’t know you’d be so tall. You wrapped your arms around me
Tightly.
I looked at your face, and I saw happiness.
Did you know I would smile?
But as I said, that was eight months ago.
The past never was for remembering.
But I gave you everything. From that very beginning, it was all or nothing.
I trusted you with all the secrets I’d never share.
(I know better now. I won’t tell them again. Sure, you could keep the secrets.
But could I trust you wouldn’t hate me for them?)
By everything, you know I mean I gave you me.
My heart, it was yours. My dreams, we shared.
My body, you took. It was nice at first,
You were gentle with me. Told me you loved me.
You got your body tangled with mine as we lay there, and I listened to your heartbeat.
We were strangers then;
We were so close.
You’re so far away now, not within state lines, nor within
Those dreams you had once taken over so.
Who knew college would be what took you away?
Or maybe it was the car.
I divulged myself in trying new ways to talk to you.
Because when you left, you stopped talking to me.
No, I’m sorry. You’re right. You did talk to me.
Again and again you told me lame stories.
You’d tell me things you didn’t care about, why did you think I would?
Not even about your day.
You told me you loved me, though.
But that’s all you ever said.
And if I tried to ask you how was your day, what are you doing (…I’d ask anything to get you to talk to me)
You wouldn’t have answered.
“What is your favorite memory of a vacation?”
You only told me you’d never been on a vacation.
You’ve been to California. California is better than here. It has a different ocean on its coast.
You told me you’d take me to California. Take me away from here.
(You won’t be taking me anywhere.)
I’ve always wanted to see the windmills, ya know.
And the beaches that extend for miles, I wanted to see flashing lights.
I wanted to be anywhere you were.
Anywhere but here.
But now, you are so far away.
It’s hard to believe you were ever here. Did I dream you up?
Is this insanity, this madness,
Is this love?
I don’t know if I want to love you. Not like this.
It’s not like you’ve never told me I mean much to you, or have ever hit me.
No. You’d never do that.
You’d do something much worse.
You’d stop loving me.
And I’d…
Well, when I wake up in the morning and I know it will be the last day,
I will know I cannot grab your hand, or see your face,
Or even kiss the lips that once told me beautiful things,
Shushed my laughter and cradled my tears;
I will know you’ll be gone, and
I will move on.