Ignite the Sky

When he told me he loved me, my heart was not ready. Confused, my mind was still not accustomed to the idea that good things could happen to me. How could the boy I had loved for years love this girl with bruised insides. I kissed him and cemented this memory like a pressed flower into the pages of my mind. I breathed an 'I love you' into his lips, and the 'I love you too' that came back felt foreign but calming. They tell you not to build your heart around silly boys that are made to break them, But naïveté comes easier than the truth. And I am content to drown in dreams of a future neither of us can see yet. I told him that love is not a promise, Just a feeling. But perhaps I was underestimating the strength of the heart to crack open the ribcage in its effort to be seen. My mind mumbles embarrassed apologies for my hearts behavior, But my heart knows the truth: There is no shame in caring for another person, There is no shame in falling in love, There is no shame in jumping head first into fragile feelings. When he tells me he loves me, my heart is not prepared, But for the first time, I remember that there is beauty in the unexpected.

It was like something changed. Like a light switched on, illuminating the room, for the first time, I realized there was no monsters hiding under the bed. There would be no consequences when the words left my lips. I did not need validation or reciprocation to voice my feelings, They were there, and valid all on their own— I love you. The way your eyes widen when you're playing innocent and your knack for knowing details. You painted stars in the darkness of my room as your words swirled into pictures that told the history of the world, that night only amplified the feelings my heart already knew to be true-- I love you. Your hands pull my waist close as you lean in and kiss me with a sense of wanting I thought I only possessed, And I wonder for a moment if your lips are made of glass, Because mine bleed stories of your presence. There was the morning I pretended to be sleeping as your fingers brushed against my jawline, and I wondered for a moment what it might be like to never sleep alone. I fell in love with you the moment you became my best friend. Hours passed with you like seconds and for the first time in my life I discovered that I could be ignited by another person. That I could never be alone in the universe, As long as there was you.

We were lying on my bed all twisted sheets and innocent touching, and my mind began coursing with thoughts I had not yet said out loud. A boom box set on repeat in the middle of my cerebrum, I am drowning in feelings that feel foreign in a broken heart like mine. When I tell him I love him, he is silent. I push my head into his chest and squeeze my eyes tightly shut. I am a little girl again, Scared and hiding, I am hoping he will save me. But when his words do come, they do not mend my pride. He is haphazardly trying to sew me back together, but let us not kid ourselves, the only answer to 'I love you' my heart will deem curative is 'I love you too'. So when he shakes out a reply about not being ready, I do not handle the moment with dignity or grace. I cry and untangle myself from his arms. I do not want to touch— I want to disappear. I want to shove the words back and let them dissolve under my tongue. I want to wake up and brush this moment off, as a less than perfect dream. He is pulling my body back towards him and asking me not to cry. But this moment is not about him, it is about a legacy of insecurity and distorted self image. How easily we let ourselves fall prey to the vicious cycles that pave our own self loathing, for in that instant, I realized, loving someone else could never make me love myself.

I was midway through dinner when she asked me, "Have you told him that you love him yet?" . Perhaps, my answer came a little too quickly, maybe, a little too quietly. . "No." . She did not ask me to elaborate and I was thankful. . My mind, was swirling because I said no, but what I meant was, No—because I've risked too much already to say it first. No—because he once told me he didn't believe in love and the fear of unrequited feelings has stayed on my tongue like the taste of peppermint. No—because 'I love you' does not adequately convey the feeling I want to express. No—because what is said aloud cannot be taken back and I have never encountered a more dangerous four letter word. No—because 'I love you' is too easily interpreted as 'I need you'. No—because saying 'when we kissed on Nicollet Island you tasted like fire and the words you speak are like ribbons uncurling themselves in my chest' makes me so vulnerable, I feel paralyzed. . No—because loving you was never a choice, and I so fear the things I cannot control.

I have the same recurring nightmare night after night. In it, your lips no longer conduct my heart to beat at a faster tempo, and your fingertips no longer trace the lines on my back. This is it. The moment when reality comes crashing in faster than a meteor— you tell me to not waste time being worried. Perhaps I read too many love poems gone wrong to believe in happily ever afters— you are far too beautiful a soul for this to not end in fire. If only Firsts didn't have a way of feeling like Lasts. Maybe then, your mouth wouldn't taste like a plane crash waiting to happen.

Last night, I spilled so much emotion, rushes of pain, flowing from a mysterious faucet in my chest. Today, I cannot say I'm surprised to find that my insides have rusted shut. I searched for answers in the moon above, Hoping its fullness could repair this overwhelming emptiness. Unwilling and unable to string plain words together to make something beautiful. My consciousness is sloppy. Even syllables from his lips could not heal. "There's nothing I can say," he whispered. The truth is, sometimes, there's nothing left to do but squeeze my hand harder—tighter. Don't let go. God. Please. Don't let go. He is the way the Minneapolis skyline reflects on the Mississippi River. Foggy, distant, I could not quite reach his light. The world is turning and everything is falling into the places I wanted them to be, but my insides feel hollow, and I wish that I could pull my heart out of my chest and place it next to his, because there is nothing more beautiful than the sound two hearts make when they are beating in unison. Perhaps, if I listen close enough, its melody could lead me, like a lost child, from the depths of the cavern I have wandered into.