Two Doors

When you walked through the door,
I was confused.
Not in a bad way but in the "why is this tan blonde surfer (probably does a lot of pot) wanting to meet me?" sort of way.
But as the days progressed...well I was still confused.
Not in a bad way but in the "why is this tan blonde surfer (he didn't do a lot of pot)" being sweet to me sort of way.
But as the months progressed,
...nope, still confused.
Not in a bad way but in the most wonderful way.
In the "I want to spend the rest of my life with this blonde surfer boy who doesn't smoke pot?" way
But no, that's not right.
I can do better.

How about the boy who treated me sweeter than I ever knew could be possible.
Who touched my skin like it was a flower petal.
Who put up with my claw machine addiction, just smiling while shaking his head.
Who endured the tickling.
Who gave me my first Christmas.
Who gave me his family.
Who checked my heart and lungs at least twice a day "just to practice."
Who provided me with sufficient amounts of stuffed animals.
Who never made actual grilled cheese, just cheese sandwiches.
Who knew I liked the little spoons.
Who kept me safe.
Whose chest was the perfect pillow.
Who held my hand wherever we were.
Who made my life.
Who is still the blonde surfer boy who doesn't do pot, but now who I've learned is so much more.

When you walked through the door,
I didn't know you'd be opening a new one.
It's a door I've never seen and it's so beautiful.
I want to race to it but I can't,
because you have the key.
And the door is closing.
The soft touches are gone.
Along with pretty much everything else.
I wake up at 4AM and write poems now,
Because your relaxed body,
Your chest slowly moving up and down with each breath you take,
You're sleeping face relaxed into the perfect smile,
It isn't next to me to make things better anymore.

I'm clinging so hard to his words, his pictures, his everything.
And I'm so scared,
Because he might just walk back out the door.
And if he does,
I don't think it will open again.

Author's Note

I'm sure I have plenty of grammatical errors

Reviews

[Adam Adams]

"Who checked my heart and lungs at least twice a day..." Romantic line you've plotted here. Love's always seemed to be a breathless beat of heart that craves to be breathed / pumped up alongwith someone's dreams / someone's smiles / warmth & love. Very nice imagery. Well written.