To My First Love

~When You~

They say a relationship can't rely on just 'love' but a variety of other factors. I tend to fret over that but it's always you who pulls me back down. You never let my mind wander far in outer space; you become my gravity. It's the matter you are that pulls me back to my senses.

It's when you thank me do I feel noticed.

It's when you say you'll wait for me do I feel your sincerity.

It's when you tell me to speak my mind do I feel a connection is formed.

It's when you say 'we' that makes me believe.

It's when you tell me you love me do I feel air through my lungs.

I've been following my patience and though it can feel frustrating as I grip onto the red string, I remember that you're at the end of the line. I can be easily swept away like a genie crab on the shore; it's drowning. I can easily be carried away but the storm never terrors my anchor. You'll always find me. You pick me upon digging through the suffocating sand, then suddenly I've been reached. I've become this sea glass bead. All those worries and over broadened ideas are condensed, pushed away and dissipated like condensation. Those rain drops that have slipped and fallen are being absorbed by the sun's bright rays. It's no longer like stormy seas but like a spring meadow. Where calm and tranquility are in place. What those may call Heaven-like; that's what it means to be with you. I enjoy that peace that you've become to me, however I know it won't always stay calm. My mind will wander in space once more, it seems to adore astrology. It's always looking to see and provoke Libra's Scale, to tip them and cause tremors in my balance and comfort. If only I could stop exercising and stop this muscle memory from devoting to pain. My fear is much like how many fear ghosts. I worry that under my expression of fear, you may think it is irrational. I find it much like paper airplanes. They take flight as they ride the high wind and the wave of the joyous current. Though gravity and reality come hand in hand, the brace for impact is to come as I've nose-dived deep; the cockpit is crashed. Where that should be the place of control, like our brains but my heart wants to beg. It's begging for resuscitation, it needs air; you. You are the fresh air that unclogs my blocked lungs. All of a sudden, the lines jump and are conducted. Like the maestro in an orchestra and you guide the violins to gently hum along my heart strings. My senses are overwhelmed and pulled as I hear keys now. I hear Debussy's Clair de Lune play in my head. Moonlight... I still come back to these words. Stars, the Sun and the Moon. I've read the stories, they all tell the same ones. How the Sun died to let the Moon breathe; how nauseating. No, the Sun wouldn't burn out for the Moon. He would never be so bewitched. Instead, she would rather die so the Sun could beam every day, so he may spread his happiness to everyone. It will always be everyone else, it's his duty. How dare she even try to be selfish. However, in the Moon's Fantasy, he does admire her from afar. He silently smiles and retires for the evening, letting his opposite guide those lost in the dark. Only knowing well how lost she is in her own dark. The shadows are unpredictable. They can be solid as the ground's concrete or translucent as nylon stockings. Though with you, I feel like I want to be glass. Transparent and clear. Much like bright days and no clouds... but I've spent too much time in the clouds. Dazed-looking, searching above to seek more. However, I've been trying to reach Heaven before we're ready. There's a red string tied to my finger and it leads me back to you. The string may be long but it's tight. I'll always be reminded of the time...

When you thanked me, I felt hope.

When you waited for me, I felt home.

When you told me to speak, I felt change.

When you said 'we', I felt complete.

When you say you love me, I feel you.