We started with a spark—
a shared birth month,
April wrapped in quiet coincidence.
Then came the little storms,
petty fights over nothing at all.
Sharp words tossed like careless winds.
Still, we stayed—friends,
just like anyone else.
But I remember the thought,
"What if I liked you?"
I laughed it off.
You weren't my type—
you couldn’t be.
I tried to hate you,
tried to forget.
But in trying to push you away,
I fell deeper instead.
And somehow,
you became the first
to ever reach this far into me.
Seven years.
Seven whole years
since I last felt this way.
And it’s you.
April | 2017