Seven Years Of Love

I fell in love in the dorm rooms. The concrete walls and a lack of sleep. There was always someone to talk to while we all got drunk off of each other. Kids growing into adults before our eyes, becoming more independent as we carried each other home. We worked through exams and projects, broken hearts and empty bottles. We explored a two day hangover, waking up in places that didn’t belong to us.

I fell in love in Fairfax. At a townhouse I never felt at home in. Shivered away in the cold. The warmth of something that should be familiar, my first introduction to a chalkboard wall. Bon Iver would call it skinny, but it was more an empty love. A person out of convenience, a tight fist without encouragement to relax.

I fell in love in Ballston. It was raining and construction built a covered path over the sidewalk. It was still cold and the beginning of the week. I kissed you underneath the wood, a hidden moment out in the cold. It was late winter, the spring around the corner bringing me closer to my goals I never knew I had.

I fell in love on U street. Outside of the door I began to cry. I was ready for the next chapter but had had too much to drink. The liquid came pouring out of my eyes, trying to flush away all the toxins. To cleanse my soul of the negative energy. The stars have always been forgiving, letting us unload our heaviest burdens. We are made of them, their dust and promise of more than just gravity and air.

I fell in love in DuPont. Brunch and sunshine filling my bones. No thought of lost lovers here, just champagne and friends fending off the hangovers. People watching in the circle, the college couples learning what it means to pause. They will never be who they are again, the exams and books weighing down their bones. The taxes and retirement shoved into their ears. But here they were, quiet on the grass. A nap for now before the future spun away. Time only speeds up, weekends filled with appointments and errands.

I fell in love on the metro. A stranger in conversation, we both had on the same color pants. We talked about books and our red eyes stayed open. The rocking of the train was calming, the metro operator’s voice flooding stop to stop. We talked about drinking whiskey and running away as fast as we could. A stranger could be a lover, we all start out that way.

I fell in love with myself. At five am the sun was rising, breaking through my window. The only sounds were birds and my heartbeat. The slow blinking of my eyes putting away my pieces. This day would be one of the last, a numbered moment, save anything before dramatic. All of us walked to coffee and to hope, to start our days before our suits. All was quiet, this was where I belonged. Thought Catalog Logo Mark

image – EpSos .de

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