The day
I've always loved you.
I'm the kind of girl who falls in love quickly.
But the day I knew you loved me was the day we fought.
I was driving. My knuckles were white from gripping the steering wheel so hard and you were laughing.
The fact that you were laughing only made me more angry.
"Don't be mad" you grinned.
"Shut up. I'm mad. This isn't funny."
"You'll get over it by the time you drop me off," you said good-naturedly ignoring the fact that I told you to shut up.
Being the stubborn girl I am, I ignored you and glared at the road.
That's when it happened. Your hand pulled mine from the wheel, interlacing our fingers.
Still upset I yanked it back and gripped the wheel harder, "I need two hands to drive."
"You haven't needed two before this. In fact you rarely drive with two," you countered.
Grinding my teeth I muttered, "I've learned my mistake."
You tried again anyway. This time you held my hand in yours, and trapped it against your chest.
I tugged, you held on.
I yelled, you listened.
I pushed, you embraced.
I was impossible and you were relentless.
That's when I knew you loved me.
And I know I couldn't have known...but that might be the last time you hold my hand.
Because now you're letting my hand sit on the steering wheel, as you look anywhere but me.
You're not reaching for my hand anymore, and that's how I know you don't love me still.
Just like I knew you loved me then.
I wrote something. I want to share it. Too nervous to take credit. It just needs to be out there.
ReplyDeleteOver Life.
I get scared.
A lot.
Not over scary movies or haunted houses.
Over life.
It's scary.
A grandpa.
The best man I've known.
Loses everything because of someone else's lie.
He's diagnosed with cancer.
He's getting better.
The suspense is building.
It's scary.
A boy.
A player.
I'm playing with fire.
I know it.
But every time he touches me my body goes haywire.
I'm falling.
It's scary.
A brother.
22.
Single.
Living at home.
Gets joy out of people's pain.
I love him so much.
He doesn't understand that love.
I just want my brother.
It's scary.
A job.
Lost over a year ago.
The new one is a work in progress.
Can't pay my school fees.
Mom is scared.
Dad feels like a failure sometimes.
It's scary.
Love.
We give it.
A piece of ourselves.
And hope that it is taken care of.
We risk it.
And hope that risk pays off.
When we love so deeply we have the potential to be seriously hurt.
It's scary.
So that's my problem.
I love so much.
I can be broken apart.
Irreparable.
It's scary.
This is absolutely beautiful and heatfelt. Thank you for sharing! Can I maybe post it?
Delete