I thought I found you when I was fifteen, in the adorable boy with the floppy hair and freckles. The one whose voice could break down all my walls. The one who taught me what the true meaning of butterflies in your stomach really was. The one I gave up four years for.
I thought I found you that cold December day when we kissed for the very first time on the subway platform, when the first snow of the season began to fall at the perfect time. When he bought me my favorite tea and pretended he couldn’t figure out my eye color just so he could lean in closer.
I thought I found you in the pain I felt when he walked away from me. When he let me leave without saying a word. I thought that’s why I let him back in. I thought it was you when we ended up together no matter how many times we promised we wouldn’t. I thought I found you in the boy who let his friend’s control how he felt about me. But when he chose them over me for the final time, I knew it wasn’t you, because real love, real love is not spiteful, it is not fleeting.
I never once thought it was you I found in the boy who always ran away.
I knew it wasn’t you in the one that gave up.
I knew I hadn’t found you in any of the other boys since then, and I know I still haven’t found you just yet. Not in the boys I kissed to forget the one with the floppy hair and freckles, not in the friends of friends.
Not in the boys at parties who make the first move. Not in the ones I regret.
I’ve felt love, that much I know for sure, but dear real love, I haven’t felt you quite yet.
There’s always been something missing. There were the butterflies, but no one to talk to in times of need. The sweaty palms, but never the confirmation of knowing they need you back.
Real love, the love that lasts, it lasts forever. You’ll be there at 3 a.m. when your parents are fighting, or 3 p.m. when your children are.
Real love is what they write movies about. It’s in songs, and books, and TV. Real love is all around. It’s the goal that people strive to.
Real love is what you stay up all night thinking about. It’s the love you dream of. The person you know you can spend the rest of your live with. It’s the vows you make to each other and the promises that you keep.
Real love can move mountains, it can make all the bad in the world disappear. When everything goes wrong, it’s the one constant.
I’m grateful for the boy with the floppy hair and freckles, for the one who always ran and the one who couldn’t take a risk.
They showed me real love takes it’s time. It waits for you to be ready.