To The Man Who Stole My Heart


I wasn’t ready, I was never meant for clichés.

Yet here you are; the silver between slivers of hope, the glimmer of early morning dew mirrored in my glistening eyes.

I haven’t been a believer for quite a while, but I remember praying for you, for us, even if I had you for a short while.

I remember how it felt to lose you for the first time to the past, and all I could offer you was a way back. It was all I had, I let you go and I’ve never had the will to be so selfless again. I’ve lost you many times since, but you aren’t much of a nomad- you’ve always found your way back home.

I’ve been at the brink of going up in smoke more times than I’d like to admit, you’ve been at the precipice, seconds away from tipping over and letting the briny water flood your lungs… But we’ve proven to be each other’s saviors and though we’re learning to be our own saviors, I’ll always need you and I’ll always want you.

You told me my words held worth at a time when my world was crashing to the ground, when I’d given up on myself, and you probably don’t know it, but you helped save a life.

I’ve seen you transform from a canvas of scars into a landscape of hues vibrant enough to outshine nature itself. Don’t get me wrong, I’ve loved you for your scars, but I won’t call them beautiful. Nothing that gives you pain will ever be.

It’s been quite a journey, from counting stars to counting down the days till we meet, but I wouldn’t change a thing. You’re my best friend, my confidante, my partner in crime and the love of my existence. You’re everything I’d hoped for and more and I’ll always remain indebted to a higher power, to fate, to destiny (whichever pleases you) for bringing us together.

Hazy beginnings don’t always make for clarity, but you cut through the smog and now, we’re the golden lacquer gluing together a broken soul. We’re one, in our joy and grief, our triumphs and hurdles, in all that exists between two points on a scale.

To the man who stole my heart,

I’ve been ready for a while.

Let’s be a cliché.