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We met the old fashioned way, in a new fashioned society.
But we both preferred that old idea of love.
At 2 o clock on that Friday afternoon, you captured my heart forever.
Like capturing a photograph. A moment to treasure.
This is our story. A story they will tell throughout time, you once said.
The way your hand fitted into mine was like Cinderella’s glass slipper.
It was only designed for her. The perfect fit.
And you were mine.
That first kiss we shared on the park bench, with the burning sun in the sky.
A symbol of our love. Like a new sun beginning to burn for the first time.
Sat on your sofa, drinking Dracula’s blood, the wine that started everything.
The smell of cigarettes in the air. A smell that will always remind me of you.
You, sat next to me with your warm smile and those big brown eyes.
My weakness.
If I could be captured in a moment, I wish to lay there forever.
You kissed my lips so softly, and carried me upstairs.
If you let go of me in that moment, I swear I would have floated.
You lay me down on your bed, like a delicate painting, only to be admired.
I held you tight in my arms, like I hold onto the memories I have of you.
Never wanting to let go.
We made love like we were made for loving each other.
A perfect harmony.
I never believed in the one, and yet here you were.
Your soul was touching mine, because they had found one another again.
And at last, I was complete.
I fell asleep in your arms, so peaceful and safe. Like I was home.
You were my home.
I awoke to the sweet sound of your voice to find that this was not a dream.
A dream that every little girl has, and I was wrapped up in it like a blanket.
But this blanket was your skin, and you were my dream.
You returned from the kitchen and brought me breakfast in bed.
The smell of coffee to which you tried so hard to impress me with.
The blueberry jam on toast. As sweet as your kiss.
That kiss marked on my soul like a tattoo, my favourite one by you.
It will never fade.
You started a fire in me, and it is through these memories that keeps it ablaze.
It crackles through my heart.
A heart that feels lost without you my love.
But the blueberry jam has been put away in the cupboard.
Now hidden at the back of the shelves.
And yet that fire still burns…
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Beautiful. I'm sorry if you lost that person, but I promise that if you did, you'll find that love again someday, and this experience will be one of the things that leads you to them. And if you still have that person and you believe they're still the one for you, hold on tight. It may take some work and some hurt, but you may be able to pull the jam back out of the cabinet and bring the love back.
ReplyThank you so much! I still hold that hope in my heart. If love is meant to be, it’s meant to be. Only time will tell.
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