him

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oliver.

he hated soccer,

but because it made his dad

happy he played for his entire

high school and middle school career,

eventually earning himself

a scholarship.

his father had never been more

proud of anything

but oliver had never been more

broken.

he needed that scholarship,

but he was in love with a girl

who made it almost unbearable for him

to accept.

he liked old horror movies and

spent his evenings in the bed

of his truck thinking about life.

he had failed spanish

but had paid enough attention to learn

te amo.

he hated wine and ate pizza for breakfast.

he liked the strokes and

wrote poetry he didn't tell anyone about.

he was thoughtful,

and always seemed to make her smile.

and right before he left,

before he tore himself out of her arms

and turned before she could see his tears,

he handed her a torn piece of paper

with his scrawled writing on the front.

there's no passion in life

unless you love.

and so my eternity

will be filled with passion

because my eternity will

be filled with loving you.

he left her with his poetry

because that was like leaving

her a piece of his heart.

and he wanted her to know

that his heart was filled with her.

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