i read somewhere once that if you cry the first time you kiss them, it means they are the one

but what about if i have to bite my lip just to stop myself from screaming just from the thought of their collarbones. or their hands. or the way their lips curve around their smile when its genuine.

what does it mean if i lose countless nights of sleep even while they are safely wrapped in their threaded sheets, dreaming of a life with somebody else? what happens when a flash of their name on my phone screen makes me feel like ive been electrocuted – and somehow i still like it? 

and if its been almost 3 years now and they are still not mine but somehow it still feels wrong for anyone else to be? if coincidentally somehow someway everywhere i turn i see something reminding me, if somehow they’ve left a tag on me and whenever i stop missing them even just a little, they somehow always come back?

what about if i never get to kiss them? what about if my hands are shaking too much and my lungs are ashed out and my kidneys are begging me to stop pouring one more and i just never have the chance? what if im so convinced that im too young and so naive and its not really love if it isnt returned and they leave and they never look back? 

well fuck it then maybe they aren’t the one and maybe it isn’t meant to be but somebody once told me you never forget your first love and in response i laughed

maybe it was because that means im going to be 35 one day and doing my thing and somehow amidst all the good and the ugly and the hot and the not, somehow ill still be chipping my teeth on their name

or maybe it was because how could anyone forget this feeling, this hot branded imprint in their handwriting burning in my blood, this empty stomach drunk breath screaming ‘i love you’, this goddamn bug, this itch that i fucking love to scratch, this loose string in a sweater i cant stop myself from pulling, this trap, this goddamn “all the feelings in the world in one feeling” feeling. how could anyone forget, in fact has anyone ever forgotten?

or maybe it was neither, maybe it was just because from the moment i laid eyes on you, i knew there was no such thing as forgetting and there was no such thing as someone else and there was no such thing as anything but the desire that crept up like a nightmarish dream that you almost never want to end

sometimes i think about you on your wedding day

sometimes i think about what you’ll wear and what relatives you’ll invite and what colors you’ll decide on and where it will take place and sometimes i think about if you’ll be happy

sometimes i think about how if i was lucky enough to be at the altar standing across from you that it wouldn’t matter whether we lived on rodeo drive or in the fucking ghettos of indiana or even not at all sometimes i think about how i could bring you home flowers after a long day at work or make you breakfast in bed when you’ve been having a rough time or write secret poems on your skin that only you could be the reader of sometimes i think about how i wouldn’t just cry the first time, but how i would cry the second time, and the third time, and the fourth time, and so help me god if there would ever be a last

sometimes i think about you on your wedding day

but most of the time i’m thinking about how much i’ll have to smoke so that my fingers aren’t urging for your number in my phone and most of the time i’m thinking about the thousand million things i’d have to change to be good enough for you and most of the time i’m thinking about a way to stop thinking about you once and for all but most of the time i’m thinking about how there never will be a way yet somehow i will always be ok with that