The Way You Wrote Your Name

As my mind raced today in frustration and admittedly, pure anger, I thought of you.
I recalled a time I felt happy and loved by you; some of the best times I possess.
My thoughts led me to relive how lovely most of our time together was.

With ambition, we would kick off our shoes and leave the house abandoned.
Running barefoot through the grass your father had just cut, we made our escape.
Laughing and tripping, we made our way to the hammock.
By the pond, we would lay quietly in complete stillness, with only wind to sway us.
The warm afternoons blanketed us with smiles and reasons to give thanks.
I loved the way you wrapped your arms around me and made my chest your pillow.
We’d lay silent and fall asleep to the sound of the oak trees bending in the wind.
In waking, I’d whisper to you and beg you to open your eyes to find mine.
When those brown eyes stretched wide, staring up at me, I felt complete.
I would then kiss your forehead, right on the small, rock-made scar from your childhood.
Our legs entwined and arms wrapped tight, we’d begin to swing the rope web.
You always begged me not to flip it, but I almost never listened to you.
We’d fall three feet into the grass below and lay in pain for a minute or two.
I would then look over to your smiling face and our smiles would kiss with passion.
On these days, the grass was greener and the sky more blue than ever before.

To know this story is not a fairytale but rather fact, helps me find a smile.
We did not love perfectly, but I am eternally thankful for the love we shared.
As the years pass, I think of you from time to time and hope you are well.
You were always so much more motivated and I’m proud of who you have become.
You have written your name as my first love, never to be erased.
Thank you.


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