This is the month when love became action:
You had told me you loved me many times.
You had told me when you were drunk. And I ignored it.
You had told me over the phone. And I ignored it.
You had texted it.
Held my face in your hands.
Confessed to me again and again.
But I didn't say it back.
Initially I didn't believe you.
I couldn't fathom a love that sometimes hurt me.
I wasn't ready to tell you something I thought you wanted to hear.
Because you liked the words.
I wanted to say it when I wanted to say it.
When I said "I love you too." I was scared.
Your kind of love was all consuming.
I knew it would destroy me.
I let you lead me.
The control was completely with you.
You constantly reminded me not to give up.
You became my hulk.
I was willing to let go to let you in.
You told me I wasn't ready for you.
I told you I deserved better.
We were liars.
We were co-conspirators in sabotage.
We were wrong for each other.
Then we were right for each other.
I fed you the world's greatest pizza and we made a huge mess.
We were a huge mess.
You pulled me close to you in the parking lot and asked me what I wanted.
It felt selfish to ask for more.
You were my whole world.
You asked me one last time not to give up.
I promised I wouldn't.