The first morning we spent together,
he was playing guitar
as we sat in bed surrounded by snow.
The first date,
when I wore my “eat pussy not animals” t-shirt
to cut right through the bullshit
and when I stole crayons on may way back
to the table after a visit to the restroom.
The third date, when I had butterflies
in my stomach
and when it took me over an hour
to pick out the perfect outfit.
That first kiss. When I sat beside him in bed,
book in hands, naked under my bathrobe,
still so innocent as to his intentions.
I wanted to be warm and comfortable. And he always made me feel it was safe for me to be that way.
Then there was the time when he helped me move in,
and we christened the place with what else but tequila.
Our first fight.
When I was still so afraid to have him see me break.
When I opened the door to the end and then shut it almost immediately.
The night when we did drugs and became
a couple, officially.
I guess maybe that one should’ve been a sign.
There was this one night, one of the first we spent
together in my new apartment,
when we drank too much
and were up way too early the next day
and we laid down and meditated and then
took in a sunrise afterwards.
I could hear the humming of the refrigerator
and feel the warmth of his hands enveloping mine
and honestly I would’ve died happy if I had gone at that time.
That day felt like all of love
was giving just me
a hug.
The first time I saw him cry.
You have to be comfortable with tears
to date someone like me.
The day we drank our way through all of Denver
and got kicked out of a restaurant
for being “inappropriate.”
The first moment we both discovered
we were just two big kids
in adult bodies.
I can’t remember exactly when that happened.
Maybe it was something our souls recognized in each other.
That first month
when we were completely sober
and I fell in love with him
for exactly who he was.
There were never any masks,
I loved our love partly because of that.
Because I could say crazy things
and be outrageous
and he would always meet me halfway.
Throughout our time together
he really learned who I was
and loved me just the same-
perhaps that really is worth
all the heartache
of the end.
