August.
What is love? Is it a sunset in late October? Or a newborn baby in the early months of spring? Is love the feeling you get at the top of a roller coaster, right before the sudden drop to the bottom? Or is love a power within, something that can lift you to the highest point but has the ability to smash you into the ground? For me love is Hazel eyes, like that of grass growing out of a hidden path. Hair unruly like the leaves of Autumn upon your neighbours lawn. Teeth like perfect soldiers standing at attention. Creating a perfect upward curve, sending shivers through your soul. Love is the way the world stands still, when he stares out the window as you drive down the highway. The way in which each day is brighter when you're together. Love is that shirt he always wears, with the profane language on the front. The way in which he wears it every night, so that it smells like him when you take it home. Love, is the way you feel each time you have to say goodbye, as he wipes the tears softly from your cheeks. And that feeling you get each time you touch when sparks light up the room. Love is not ordinary. It's not simple, nor complex. Love has no boundaries, because love is endless.
I wrote this poem a year ago when I was dumb and in love. I read it now and honestly, i’m sad. I’m sad that I was so blind to something that wasn’t right. I’m sad that I spent a year of my life believing in someone/something that ended up leaving me behind in the rear view mirror. But mostly, i’m sad because I fell in love with someone who apparently never loved me. I gave my heart to someone who kept me around because he was lonely. And once he was done with me, he left. I’m sad because I gave my entire heart to someone who never deserved it. And unfortunately instead of being honest with me from the get-go, he was a coward. He let me believe that he actually cared about me. He let me believe that he actually loved me, and I believed him. I believed him even after lying and being unfaithful for over a year. And that is the worst kind of sad. Because no matter how many times you tell yourself you’re better off without them, there’s always that part of you that wakes up every single night in a panic after dreaming about them again. And then you remember that although it was so undeniably real to you, it was nothing but a passing breeze to him until he could move onto the next. And you spend everyday telling yourself that he doesn’t deserve the satisfaction of you killing yourself and him getting what he wants yet again. But he also doesn’t deserve the satisfaction of knowing that you’re always going to be in love with the fake version of him he created in order to fool you, even if that wasn’t his intentions. So you try to forget, and you try to be strong. But he’s everywhere. You can’t sit on the couch without remembering all the days you spent watching movies and hockey. You can't fall asleep without crying because to you, it’s still “his” side of the bed. You avoid showering because you remember all the intimate moments you shared. When you drive home you’re just, sad. You see where he works, and you flinch anytime you see a vehicle that looks like his. You stay home because you’re afraid to go into town and run into him, because then you have to pretend to be strong. But the worst part, the very hardest part, is when you look in the mirror with nothing but sadness and hatred for what you see. You stare at your breasts, wondering why they couldn’t be perfect like that other girls that he mentioned once were ‘perfect’. You stare at your stretch marks and you know that she doesn’t have them, and you’re sure he notices that. And you stare at your stomach. You think of that life you once grew. You remember what it felt like to go through that hard time alone and how he promised that you never would again. But here you are, once again alone and scared. And you remind yourself that he broke every other promise he’d made, so why would this time be any different? But even after everything, even after being called names and being harassed, you still believe in him. Even after the lies, even after how easily he threw you away, you still see that heart of gold you always knew he had. And even though it’s hard, and even though you’re scared beyond belief, you know that God has a plan and that it’s all going to work out all right. So you take your pills that are supposed to make it easier, and you crawl into bed on your side next to that pillow he used to rest his head on, and you sleep. And that, is the worst kind of sad.
