What It Felt Like To Meet You
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Relationships

What It Felt Like To Meet You

A love-hate letter to love.

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What It Felt Like To Meet You
Mira Rae Horwitz

When I first met you, I was living in black and white, a colorless abyss I hadn’t been quite aware of. You tempted me with your vibrant shades of color you added to life surrounding me, fueling an addiction I never knew I even had inside me. I began craving you, the feeling so deep in bones and coursing through my bloodstream. You came over me like a chill giving me goosebumps I never wanted to get rid of. You brought me to life like a defibrillator shocking my heart with your electric force. You were the best trip I never came down from and I never wanted to.

But you were dangerous too. Once I had a taste of you I was hooked. I was an adrenaline junkie and you were my race car. With you, I was flying 200 mph down the freeway, my heart racing and butterflies swarming in my stomach. You were the top of the roller coaster, that moment when you are neither going up nor down and you are left breathless. You left me breathless.

You were my caffeine at night, keeping me sleepless because you were the best dream I never dreamt of having. You were my anti-gravity, lifting me up until my head touched the clouds. You were the open sky I jumped into without even a parachute on my back. My every step, every thought, every decision. You were my best nightmare I was never afraid of having.

But alas, you were every drug every adult had never warned me about. The thing about falling in love is that you are falling. Head over heels, I fell into you until the ground came up to meet me. The pavement smacked against my cheek like a bullwhip and you were my matador. You were the villain in every blockbuster movie, pushing the hero off the cliff. You were my worst nightmare I should have been afraid of having.

Once I had a taste of you, that was it. Nothing would ever be quite enough again. You were my Dom Perignon, making my mouth sour at the taste of Andre. My Louis Vuitton, putting Michael Kors to shame. You shot my standards through the roof of the Empire State Building, so high up only you could help me reach them.

When you left me my white porcelain carriage turned back into a pumpkin; Cinderella with no fairy godmother. And all that vivacious color you tempted me with vanished and there I was left with the colorless abyss in which I began; except this time I was aware of it. Falling in love is easy, climbing out is the hard part.

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This article has not been reviewed by Odyssey HQ and solely reflects the ideas and opinions of the creator.
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