To the Moon and Back....

The first boy I loved, I loved before I knew what it meant to love and I loved in a way I have never loved since. I can still remember his serious brown eyes and his goofy smile as he spoke to me. And the genuine way he spoke to me, shy mousy twelve year old me. I didn’t know I loved him then but somehow my heart used him to set the bar for all those I would try to love; all those who I would give a piece of me to, those who would take that piece and leave me a little more broken than I was before. Yet when he hugged me and gave me his toothy grin those pieces would fall back into place for a little while. And when he turned his back on me for the choices I made, it hurt more than when I the boy I thought I loved sent his open palm across my face. I felt alone without those brown eyes there to guide me. And I searched for years for another pair of eyes that would pierce my soul the way his could, but I stayed lost. And then a drunken night brought him back, and that drunken night turned into years of battle. I finally had the first boy I loved and now I knew I loved him but the world had jaded us both. And as fierce as I loved him and as much as he tried to save me we failed. And I thought the world would end and I felt my heart would stop. But the world kept turning and my heart beat strong in my chest. And I watched everyone pass me by unable to hear my screams drown in liquor and silenced by drugs. I saw the world move on while I searched for a numb I just could not find. It felt as though I was stuck in a bad dream with no end. But one day it did. I put down the liquid courage I needed to make it out of bed. I learned to love myself without him. I used my own eyes to see my path instead of those dark sincere eyes that had been just as lost as me. And I learned to love again. I learned to love gently, not to empty my dark soul into another but to fill my soul with the light of the world around me. The first boy I loved, I loved before I knew how to love myself. But he taught me the lesson of love. He forced me to love myself in order to move on. He taught me there is more to love than just passion and that love does it need to be a fight. He led me to the boy I love gently today. He led me to finding the hope from my hopeless and how to turn my broken into beauty.

-a Swedish poem, translated to English, written by Unknown

Happy Mother’s Day to those with children on earth, and in heaven. Just because your child is not in your arms does not mean you don’t get to celebrate. You carried life no matter how long or short.

💕💕

X_X

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