How does one even begin to describe the very thing that is already too hard to be put into words? We grow arrogant with our confidence and belief that we know who we are. We believe that we already know our own ticks and triggers. We inflate our own egos thinking that we can’t be manipulated, that we have the tools to get to them before they can even begin to affect us; but we are wrong.
We are always wrong.
No matter how much we learn about ourselves there will always be one person that we would lose ourselves for. That becomes the problem; we lose ourselves. We become this transformed version of who we are. A mere shell of our former existence transfixed on that one person. We live, eat and breathe this change without even realizing that it’s happening.
We do it all for the sake of being in love.
My one was a five foot two, chocolate eyed, blonde, ivory skinned beauty that captured my heart in ways that I hadn’t expected. She’d managed to ignite feelings that I hadn’t realized existed until her soft cherry stained lips gently planted on mines. It all took me by surprise, but I would be lying if I tried to deny any of it.
At that point I would jump in a pool of fire covered in gasoline. Even now I would run through the highest of flames, swim the tallests of waves, face my biggests fears if it only meant I could hold her in my arms again. I want to be able to taste the strawberry flavoring of her tongue or just to be near her and see her smile. I would do anything to reach that calming level of paradise again.
She held my heart in the palms of her small hands and it was clear that she refused to let it go. As messed up as the situation was, and it almost ruined me, I still don’t want her to let it go. As long as she holds mine, I’ll always be able to hold hers again.