i feel like my heart is a patchwork now. just pieces of things i've taken from you, first love. from you, tragedy. from you, new love. how can anyone ever satisfy those things that i've found in three so different individuals? you won't suffice unless you can match the sentiments felt in the air when past love was shared.
can anyone produce the physical warmth we felt? can anyone else feel like the home i never knew? can anyone nestle into me and supplement my weaknesses? can anyone create that passion, that encouragement, that spiritual sense of "this-is-the-one-ness"?
i remember my life with you too. waking up in a room with walls painted the perfect shade of dusty purple. the dent in the wall from the argument last night. our sunshine cuddled between us, holding us together for as long as she could. wild nights in and out coated in (spirit)ed decisions and jovial phrases. periods of winter and summer where koolaid flowed freely (you taught me everything i know). being able to give of myself. you let me see that i was capable of being unselfish. you were adventurous. your prestige, your stance, your confidence. i remember that life. who can match that?
and you. best friend turned love whose mind and words intriguied me before i ever knew that i would know you. you laid under the stars with me and told me your secrets. you let me be the first of so many things that you experienced. you make me laugh. everyday. everytime i talk to you. you make sense (and i hate it.) i've never known anyone so talented, so smart. you held me until i fell asleep. i want to know you. every part. no one else is like you. so how could they match that?
someone has their work cut out for them. could one of you be all three and i can't see beneath your layers? am i right in saying that the first had more than the others but it's time to move forward? am i cheating the last in looking back? was the timing wrong for us, tragic love? i can say that i've been blessed to have this much love in my life at all...and if the middle child in this equation is right, you only get three true loves. i'm a young lass and i'm already on number three. uh oh. pressure's on.
