Some say that love is a place.
Others say, a person.
Few say, a thing.
Although I believe that love can take on many different forms in this life, one thing I know to be so true that it is simply undeniable:
Love is kissing your lover’s goosebumped skin on a winter morning, and being warmed from the inside out.
This will be true even if the whole world falls apart.
–S.
You are the taste of the color yellow.
I know that doesn’t make much sense, but I dance when I think of you.
You’re the last slice of cake,
the sweetest strawberry,
the house around the bend,
the song playing when they announce last call,
the song the breeze from the ocean sings,
the reason I believe in magic,
the feeling I get right before the main characters in a romantic comedy finally get it together and are about to kiss,
and the sweet dreamlike fog between awake and asleep.
–S.
Years ago, when we were broken-up, flirting with the idea of being together again, you kissed my ankle one desperately hot Texas night.
And that one innocent moment, held me for a long time, and still holds me today.
It hits me at random times. I can still see you kissing my ankle. And if I close my eyes really tight, I can almost feel it again. Even now.
I can still see you above me, the look in your eyes, holding my right leg up.
Tender.
Sacred.
Smiling.
Loving.
–S.
Everything was brighter with you around.
Colors were richer.
Food tasted better.
Sounds were bolder.
Smells were deeper.
Touch was like levitating while glowing in the dark.
That’s how I remember it, anyway.
Maybe, everything was just better with you around.
–S.
My heart seems to have only memorized the sweetest parts of our soul tie, but my mind knows better.
Although, you are the only person I will never stop looking for in a crowded place,
you are also the heaviest sadness I have ever known, the color blue so dark that it almost passes as black, pain so clear that I can only fall to my knees and succumb to its power, and the feeling of panic that mirrors having missed death by a mere breath.
–S.
I believe if you squint just right, you can still see us off in the distance, loving and laughing, fighting and kissing, sharing and giving.
In a parallel universe, or a sister life, we are still one, even though in this life, what’s done is done.
Off in the distance, look there, squint and wait for the light to hit just right, you can see my head on your shoulder.
And it’s still on your shoulder when I close my eyes at night.
–S.
I want you to know that I would do it all over again.
Every single moment, just to laugh with you again.
The joy. The pain.
The hate. The love.
The betrayal. The jealousy.
The disappointment. The lying.
The rainbow of emotions.
The shouting in the parking lot.
The drunken dirty whispers.
All to hear you laugh again.
To see you light up again.
To hear that small satisfied sigh before you smile again.
I would do it all.
Again.
Again.
Again.
With you.
Maybe I’m crazy,
but I never said that I was sane, baby.
–S.
The Messy Middle 🖤 