Wednesday
I was meant to love you.
Love you, like I did that Wednesday.
And not in an obsessive
I can’t breath without you kind of way.
But in the way it feels when
millions of butterflies are dancing in the bellies
of those sharing a first kiss.
Nervous and flawed,
Not perfect but always honest in its intentions.
I remember falling asleep
To the rhythm of your heart beat.
The beats sounding like waves breaking on cliffs
Beautiful, strong, silent.
Having never felt a real closeness to another human being,
I realized on Thursday
I was truly a part of something special, intimate.
A secret language of lovers, honest and real.
I found purpose in loving you.
And not that I mean my purpose is you.
But I found purpose and truth
in my ability to love so freely, and be so giving.
Never perfect just honest and warm.
In the moonlight and breeze of the pacific ocean
I knew I belonged to you
As much as you to me.
In this moment and vulnerability, I found myself.
I was connected to my heart, and my heart connected to you.
Like puzzles pieces no matter where they are placed
There is only one true and perfect fit.
I had no doubt we were a part of moments larger the we knew.
Understanding love and the universe, sacred things.
Distance would soon separate us,
But having seen lifetimes in your eyes,
and melting into warm embraces I hadn’t known
And will never stop hoping to feel again.
I find comfort in this memory, where sadness is a gaping hole.
We were never perfect only honest about feelings
and instincts.
Tuesday brought sadness
I will never forget, and not one of loss
But one of knowing it would be long
Before I felt these things again
Years later, we are still not perfect
But honestly connected
Because we shared secrets
Most will never know.
And I guess it was never meant to be perfect
But it was honest, soulful, and full of life.
And I was meant to love you, maybe not everyday
But just on Wednesdays when I find myself alone
And being honest.
*Original poem written by me over a year ago, edited, revised, revisited and loved again. Not perfect, just an honest reflection of a very real moment in my past life.
Jesuis Aime'
(image: classy-in-the-city.tumblr.com)
