It Will Always Be You

I said goodbye to him amid the palms. He lit a spark that could abruptly ignite a flame; a magnetic, electrical connection powerful enough to send chills down my spine in the August heat. But I remained dormant, even as my frustration threatened to bubble over; nonchalantly pushing his delusional love away from my guarded heart.

I stared down at his hands, which so desperately longed to touch me as if I were his. I gazed at his lips, envisioning a calamitous storm emanating from his being if he knew the truth.

I was eyeing his lips but dreaming of yours.

Even as I said goodbye, absently watching a sea of professionals in skirts and suits hurry past as I prayed for time to rush forward, you could not escape my mind. That sweltering summer day, as I reluctantly accepted his eventual heartbreak, I embraced the truth written in the stars.

It was you. It was, is, and always will be you.

The moment your soft lips caressed mine, your whiskers gently grazing my cheek, you permanently etched yourself into my weathered heart. You seeped into the cracks in my soul, healing me of heartbreaks past and future.

The night you held me as I cried in the dimly lit hotel room, my body ensconced in the sheets, my arms wrapped around you, I discovered that our love transcended the blockades binding our hearts. You enlivened my spirit with your warmth; your refusal to escape my mental prison without first pulling me to safety.

The day the roses arrived at my door, blooming a deep crimson, proclaiming your love for me, I realized that there is no one else whose heart engulfs mine, cleansing me with a powerful salve of excitement, passion, and unconditional love. You open my vacant heart to your affection, cherishing every shattered piece of my soul. You adore me like no one else: purely, fully, deeply, fearlessly.

That August day still haunts me without warning. The spark that refused to ignite. The rushed passersby. His desperate hands. His yearning lips. His hopeful heart. But suddenly, all that remains is you, materializing before me like a dream come to life. Our passionate kiss. The faintly lit hotel room. My hot teardrops. Your arms around me. The deep ruby roses. Your passion. Your love. You.

I will never forget the moment he left with a light heart, waiting for his soul to shatter. Still, every time that blistering summer day fades into consciousness, my mind always drifts back to your love. I said goodbye to him amid the palms. Now, it will always be you. Thought Catalog Logo Mark

Lives for red lipstick, high heels, 80’s pop, cats, and Oxford commas.

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