If we were to fall in love again, to entangle our fingers and hearts and brains and bodies, I’d have to relearn you. I’d have to discover you, like a treasure buried under a concrete surface. I’d have to break the thick foundation around you, dig you out from the cracked earth, scrape the dust from your skin, and start over, begin again like we are new.
I’d have to trace over the curve of your lips, the line from your collarbone to your neck, the tender skin underneath your chin.
I’d have to kiss the stubble on your face, the scars on your arms, the soft spot in the middle of your back where your shoulder blades touch.
I’d have to relearn you like my favorite novel, cover to cover and everything in-between, savoring every page with my eyes wide open.
I’d have to touch your hands, pull them to my face, listen to the way my heart flutters when you look into my eyes. I’d have to hold you, to feel your body melt into mine like it belongs there, always has.
I’d have to teach myself all the ways to love someone I’ve lost.
To love you again, I’d have to start at the beginning, feeling the way the syllables of your name taste in my mouth, seeing how our fingers curl together when we hold hands, or what your heart sounds like when my head is pressed to your chest.
I’d have to decipher you like a poem, breathing in every confusing line, every stanza, every extended metaphor hidden in your eyes or the arch of your spine.
I’d have to relearn you. Try to understand who you are, as if I haven’t already known your fears, your dreams, your promises.
As if you’re someone I’ve never met, yet feel so deeply connected to already.
Someone who feels like mine before I even let them in.
I’d have to explore your mind, relearn all the ways you think and laugh, what makes you angry and what makes you glow. I’d have to treat you like a stranger, pulling you in slowly, one embrace, one kiss at a time.
This won’t be a quick process, and I’m sorry for that.
You’ll have to be patient as I teach myself all the ways I can know you, as I experience every piece of you as if I’ve never seen it before.
As if we haven’t loved, haven’t lost.
This is how I will love you again. Exploring you, learning you, writing a map in my mind of all your wonderful places. I will love you completely then, fully.
And then we can begin anew, a love that’s thousands of times stronger than the first. And maybe this time, even unbreakable.