Story
The first time he told me he loved
I laughed.
He couldn’t be serious.
We had met just a short while ago
We didn’t know each other enough
It was way too fast
How could it be real?
I was 21
I believed that for love to be real and true
He had to know my favourite colour
How many siblings I had
Or at least where my hometown was
So I rejected his affections
So we could know each other more
Now that I think about it
It would take a handful of years
When I was much older and a little wiser
For me to consider that maybe I had it wrong after all
What did the duration of time matter in the grand scheme of things?
What did my favourite colour have to do with who I was?
What did knowing the size of my family or the land my ancestors came from
I don’t know yet truly. I don't have the big answer.
I’m just writing these thoughts down as I have them..
A measure of affection
The first time he told me he loved
I laughed.
He couldn’t be serious.
We had met just a short while ago
We didn’t know each other enough
It was way too fast
How could it be real?
I was 21
I believed that for love to be real and true
He had to know my favourite colour
How many siblings I had
Or at least where my hometown was
So I rejected his affections
So we could know each other more
Now that I think about it
that was when the twinge began.
I watched him wait
I watched him wait
I watched him give up
That twinge grew into an ache
I couldn’t understand it
I had made this decision
And I knew it was the right one
So why was I feeling this way?
That twinge grew into an ache
I couldn’t understand it
I had made this decision
And I knew it was the right one
So why was I feeling this way?
It would take a handful of years
When I was much older and a little wiser
For me to consider that maybe I had it wrong after all
What did the duration of time matter in the grand scheme of things?
What did my favourite colour have to do with who I was?
What did knowing the size of my family or the land my ancestors came from
have to do with the depth or truth of our relationship?
Where did I even get these parameters from?
How did I learn to use them as a way of measuring affection?
How did I learn to use them as a way of measuring affection?
He knows my faith, he knows how to make me laugh
and he sits with me in favourite spot everyday.
Aren’t those things better and more important
than my love for mostly pink but sometimes red?
I don’t know yet truly. I don't have the big answer.
I’m just writing these thoughts down as I have them..
1852 040722
Juicy Raindrops! ♡
Inspired by a conversation with Ahsia.
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