When I first met you, you taught me to dance. At first I stumbled and doubted you, but every time you would lift up my face and pierce me with those eyes. The more I looked at you, the less I believed that I could ever be anything but perfect. I trusted you and danced with you and fell for you, believing you would catch me.
As time went on, you taught me to breathe. I started with shallow gasps and slowly realized that I couldn’t breathe when we were apart. I learned to inhale as much as I could of you so that it would hurt less when I started to drown.
You taught me to live with my eyes wide open, and I began to see just how beautiful life could be with you. But I focused too much on you and suddenly you were all I could see. I stared at the sun too long and now the whole world seems dark by comparison.
In the end, you taught me the most important lesson of all. You taught me how to love. You taught me to love despite every circumstance, against every instinct, against everything I was afraid of. I loved you and I love you and part of me will always, always love you. You were my first and everything inside me wants you to be my last.
The worst part was that none of this mattered.
You were in my head but I was never in yours. You have always been dancing with someone else. She is your sun and I am your moon, almost there but never enough. The whole time you were with me, you wanted me to be her.
Now wind seems a little colder, mornings seem a little harder, and my world is a little darker.
Just like you taught me, I will push aside my feelings and try to forget you. I will try to forget that I love you, and I will try to forget that I hate you just as much. I will bury the ache that never seems to go away.
But no matter how much I distract and drink and forget, I can’t stop loving you. And I never will.