I used to be consumed with the what-ifs and the maybes. The one days and the forever I thought would be ours. A walk down the aisle with my dad by my side as I saw you waiting on the other end. I envisioned a life I thought would make me happy, the truth is, none of it really mattered as long as you were right next to me.
Because in the times I struggled to define “home,” I realized the most sound definition was where you were.
But thoughts of forever were met with the reality that hit me between the eyes, that maybe we weren’t meant to be after all.
Driving down roads seeing you everywhere. Going to spots where I still see your ghost. In the time I spend alone without you in my life it felt like a part of me was missing.
I think of the life you’ve built with someone else. Someone I thought would be me. I’ve gotten past jealousy and accepting of what is and what will never be.
Caught somewhere between friends, old lovers, and a past we don’t speak about much anymore. I admit there are still times I look back at it, but not for too long.
But maybe this forever painted itself differently than what I thought. Maybe forever can be found among the ashes of old flames that burned out.
You call and I’m no longer overcome with butterflies like I did when I were young.
Time spent together, I don’t find myself missing you when we part ways because I know I’ll see you again.
We exchange I love yous’ like it’s comfortable and real. Because it is. I think the realest love you can find sometimes is the eyes of people who know you better than you know yourself.
I don’t look at you anymore like you’re the only love of my life, but rather someone I’m lucky enough to keep without holding onto so tightly.
There’s something comforting about that.
Someone who stays.
Someone who continues to choose you.
Loving someone. Because maybe we weren’t the love of each other’s live, but maybe we loved each other the best way we knew and know how to.
Maybe love and forever aren’t always meant for the person you thought you’d wake up next to.
There’s comfort in finding that among a friendship that probably a lot of other people couldn’t maintain.
There’s a comfort in some history that doesn’t need to be spoken about.
There’s something about someone who knows you in ways you don’t know yourself because as you learned who you were, they were a part of it.
There’s something about the person you become because of another. Like if you were to pull apart the pieces of who you are and dissect it, you’d find them there. But so much of who you are has their influence painted on it.
It’s a certainty of them in your future because they were a part of your past.
It’s a person who loves you unconditionally.
A person who wants what’s best.
A person who makes you better and happier.
It’s the person who pushes you in every right direction.
But is still there at your best and worst.
The person accepts you because they’ve seen you in every form.
The person who isn’t afraid of your sharp edges or dark shadows because they know why you are the way you are.
And they know of the things you don’t speak about.
It’s the person who would protect you, stand up for you, and stand beside you through everything.
A loyalty unlike anything you’ve ever know.
The one you know will always be there and it isn’t that you take each other for granted, but rather value what the relationship has become over time.
They weren’t just someone you loved back then, they were someone you’ll love forever.
And maybe they won’t be standing there exchanging words of “I do,” but maybe they will be standing there happier for you then anyone in that room.
Maybe forever isn’t what you thought it would be. Maybe it’s something so much more.