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A Boy and A Girl
By Jillian Ports
A Girl
The second time I saw you, I fell in love with you.
You leaned casually against the side of the door,
with raised eyebrows and your famous half-smile,
illustrating a welcome for a challenge.
I wanted to take you right then and there,
lather your hair with my fingertips, and drown you with my lips.
The third time I saw you, however, I felt things change.
I still saw the same lovely face,
but instead of instilling a fiery passion, I felt a simple, friendly warmth in my heart.
It was then I knew you’d always be inside of it.
My genuine kindred spirit.
The seventh time I saw you, I fell in love with you.
You yelled at me so loudly, it burned my skin,
and I could see your eyes growing hot as bluebell flames.
It was then that I wanted to smother you in lustful desires
until you suffocated under me, and I could breathe life back into you.
The eighth time I saw you, things were different.
You painted me pictures of a strong friendship
with letter-writing and god-children
but first, a tenement life of peanut butter and jelly sandwiches.
We embraced fully for the first time, taking in all that we knew was to come.
The 31st time I saw you, I fell in love with you
as I told you I belonged to someone else.
I could hear your voice shaking with disapproval.
Your hands raged with a mystical madness
out of a protective instinct for my heart,
but it wasn’t out of a lover’s love,
it was out of brotherly care,
and how much that hurt me put a hole in my soul
left empty for a complete rotation around the sun.
The 32nd time I saw you, I decided to hate you,
for it was easier than breathing in the half-smile and piercing eyes,
filling my lungs with sheer impossibilities of you and me
enveloped solely in the sake of our being.
I didn’t see you for along time after that.
My eyes laid in yours, but nothing was felt.
Your presence merely dangled in front of me.
Plain. Emotionless. Empty hole of the soul. Still there, still there.
But the memory of the boy with the half-smile
haunted my dreams, always.
In fact, the 46th time I saw you, I fell in love with you
in a dream you danced a taunting dance on my lips.
My subconscious let you enter in a way I could not,
where you could caress my face with a big, warm hand,
pulling tickling pieces of golden hair from my eyes,
allowing me to truly see you again.
I awoke in tears.
The 58th time I saw you, it had been awhile since 57.
You stared at me with sparkles, whispering of the longing you’d had for my company.
Then you told me that you had given your heart away
to a girl with raven hair and eyes like the moon.
My another was gone and I had been lonely,
but I found myself smiling, sweetly touched by your happiness.
Surely now we were soul mates, but simply of a platonic nature.
The 59th time I saw you, you asked for a kiss.
You implied, though taken by the raven girl,
you wanted me in a “manly way”.
Shocked, I turned away from you.
How dare you have the audacity? The gall?!
The talent to make me fall in love with you again?
My back glared at you, screaming of confusion, whispering of regret.
The 77th time I saw you, you held her in your arms
and on her left hand glowed a shimmering band
with words of undying devotion engraved in an endless circle.
I saw in the way you felt her that you meant them,
but your eyes fell into mine like a tumbling ladder,
and your thoughts splattered on the floor.
I picked up the pieces and rinsed them under cold water,
revealing the fundamental truth.
It was then I knew that the circle did end.
The 98th time I saw you, you told me it was over.
I could tell it hurt you only just enough.
I wanted to reach out and hold you
and stroke your rabbit-fur hair
in the way only a best friend could.
I made promises of a special time, just for us,
where you may lock your heart away in a safe
and choke your sorrows with chocolate and peanut butter.
The 99th time I saw you, I fell in love with you.
We laid on the floor in a blanket of candy wrappers.
Your fingers pulled away my veil of hair strands,
revealing a light for your heart to follow
instead of locking it away in the dark.
I pulled your lips to mine,
and we did what fate had meant us to do all along,
fulfilling every touch, every kiss, every tickle, every bite,
toe-topful of an everlasting love.
When it was over, I looked at you
and you looked at me
and simultaneously, we realized it could never be.
For the possibility of losing a soul mate
far exceeds any lustful desire for a somebody.
But it didn’t matter, for we also realized something else.
You and me go beyond friendship.
You and me go beyond lovers.
And with that, the hole was filled.
The 100th time I saw you, I felt forever with you.
A Boy
The first time I saw you, I fell in love with you.
Your shirt was the color of pumpkins and your hair caressed your hips
as you spoke of your biting intellect.
Oh man, did I want to bite you
on the neck, the ear, the finger.
You name it.
I would’ve taken any part of you.
The second time I saw you, you didn’t see me.
You sat alone with your back to the world,
and then I realized you’d never let me in
the way I wanted you to.
So I decided to offer the hand of a brother.
And only that.
The 9th time I saw you, I fell in love with you.
It was the first time I heard you laugh so hard, you cackled
like a witch about to engage in something wicked.
Your mouth hung open, and your eyes scrunched,
and your dimples showed like footprints in the sand.
Your top lip hid against your gum.
I wished with all of my being that, even if only for a moment,
your witch powers could turn me into your gum,
just so that I may touch your top lip.
The 10th time I saw you, I snapped myself out of it.
I saw the way you stared at the other.
The one with the black eyes that still managed to shine
when he looked your way.
I heard your cackle harmonize with his change-jar chuckle,
so perfectly orchestrated.
It didn’t bother me.
You were happy.
The 32nd time I saw you, I fell in love with you
as you told me your heart was his now.
I expressed my pain through a brotherly protection,
knowing that I would have you fooled,
when in truth all I wanted to do was kill something.
You. I wanted to rip you, tear you, scold you,
and then lock your mouth with mine
and make the hurt go away for both of us.
The 33rd time I saw you, I knew you hated me.
I took it in with all of me.
And Prometheus thought his pain was rough...
clearly, he knew nothing of unrequited love.
For a long time after that, I waited.
I glared at you with all the passion I could muster,
impatiently awaiting the return of my greatest friend.
Alas, you stared back with emptiness.
A piece of you was missing.
I didn’t know how to fill it then,
but I somehow knew I would some day.
The 58th time I saw you, I fell in love with you
as I told you I had found someone else.
I knew you were happy for me.
She was all that I ever wanted,
with a beauty that shined like shimmering stars on the ocean
and ideals as pure as an infant.
But she never cackled. Merely giggled and stared.
There was no hidden lip to long for.
The 59th time I saw you, I asked for a kiss,
simply so I might destroy any leftover feelings
and completely belong to my star.
Your glare slapped me across the face
and it stung so much my eyes watered.
I knew then that all the love we could ever share
would only be platonic.
That thought freed me in the most lurking way possible.
The 74th time I saw you, I fell in love with you
as I poured all of my guilt into a tea cup.
You drank up every lie I’ve ever told,
draining it from my cup so that I may start anew.
And you did it with the most understanding eyes
that I couldn’t help but want to take you
right then and there, for the world to see.
The 98th time I saw you, my star had faded.
She could not give me everything I needed.
You embraced me fully, and pressed your lips to my cheek,
promising an evening of forget.
Of filling myself with candy, so the hurt may disappear.
Little did you know, I was not so hurt.
I had you.
The 99th time I saw you, I fell in love with you
as I felt you in my arms for the first time.
I finally knew how your gum felt
when you pulled your mouth hard against mine.
Everything I’d ever longed for,
now being thrown at me.
When it was over, I wanted more,
but I could see the fear in your eyes.
You didn’t want to lose me.
The feeling, I regretfully admit, is mutual.
Because you and me, babe,
we are the epitome of soul mates.
Separated once, and the better part of us dies.
At this realization, I knew I had fixed the emptiness,
for we, at once, knew what was supposed to be.
The 100th time I saw you, I saw all of eternity at once.
There's a glimpse of the craziness that is my current love life. The whole story is too complicated to put on a livejournal.
Happy Thanksgiving.
I love all of you, and hope you know how grateful I am for your existences.
~me~
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