you were familiar strawberry-breath, milk skin, yellow hair. you were hide and seek and coco puffs in your parent’s kitchen. puppy love that lasted a week, you were a six year old’s dream of a husband to make our parents happy.
we all loved you. the dashing adventurer, you told us of the animals you saved and the skunk babies you had to chase around the house. you were fourth grade girl group fascination, leading the way into fifth grade big-time infatuation.
you were new, and the tips of your hair were orange. a nice kid, a cute one too- the loveland ladies fell hard for you. within a day, i learned to see who you actually were, and ended up loving your sister instead.
boy oh boy, i thought i loved you. seventh grade, camping in the same tent, lying next to you. my little romantic’s heart almost couldn’t handle the weight. you were sweet- later turned cruel. i’m proud to say i passed on you.
freshman year football games- you, black eyed and shadowed, a senior boy who seemed so worldly i just had to sit and listen. and babysit you. and buy you coffee, because you had to sober up before your mom picked you up, because your license was restricted, because of your second DUI. you seemed like a good idea at the time.
you were safe, i thought. what did i know. you dragged me through glass for six months.
you’re the one who made me afraid.
sweet as sugar, bitter as black coffee. sometimes you seem too much like me, and that’s why i hold myself away from you. it’s nothing that you did, boy. i swear it. if i wasn’t a cold bitch by now, i would have fallen hard for you.
i love you i love you i love you i love you. and i hate that i do because it’s caused me nothing but grief. still, you’re the best to love, because you’re the only one who has not hurt me. thank you for showing me the difference between infatuation and oh-god-i-want-to-breathe-you. thank you for showing me that love should not leave bruises.
i will always have a little hope for you.