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This Is

What Love Is? Right...

I think I was in love once, no could it have been?

I think love is what it was, I don’t remember much about that time.

I remember tears and misunderstandings. But I also remember his embrace and how sincere he was when things were perfect and love was what we shared.

I think it was love though, right?

I think it was the way he looked at me when I was trying to understand something. Or maybe it was in the way he grinned when he cracked jokes at my expense.

That’s what it is right? Peace and laughter after every storm like it had never happened.

I think I may have been in love with the way he told me we were in love.

It couldn’t have been lust over those years, it never felt great the way he commanded my body, just like the way he toyed with my mentality.

But I know we were in love, he’d listen to me talk about things I have a hard time conveying and only once corrected me, I’d lay in his arms as he sung me songs that made him think of me.

I held him while he cried and pleaded for forgiveness right before throwing my faults in my face.

But it was love, it was mad, toxic, blind love.

I think I may have been in love before, yeah.

It was love that brought me up to the pedestal he built and it was love that created his ghost that sweet whispers live in the hallways of my soul.

I don’t think I’ve ever been in love, the kind of love you read happy stories about or watch live happily ever after. I’ve never had that type of love.

But I was in love, maybe once or twice.

I craved the approval of his love marked actions, his anger and his tenderness made me weak in different ways that I convinced myself was true.

I want to be in love, I think. I want to experience the calm of the hurricane that makes people do things so sweetly and caring.

I think I’ve loved someone, for all the wrong things before.

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