Category : Poems

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And I Loved Him.

The smell of his flannel as I held it close to my chest as I slept was of wet soil and Spanish coffee on a rainy Wednesday morning. It was part of the reason I fell in love with him.

Most girls talk about a guy's great looks, great body and great naughty bits, and yes he had all that, but that really didn't matter to me. What I looked forward to every day was the real connection between us, the way we could just vibe out together and the memories we were making. I appreciated the way he made me feel safe, even when there wasn't a threat in sight.

I loved the way he let me hide my face in his chest while he was half asleep during a rainstorm because of my fear of thunder and lightning. His little giggle, cute dimples and laugh lines always made my day; I loved all the times he would be at work the night before the first day of school and I would stay at his house for most of the summer vacation, and he came to school to see me wearing something of his; all he did was walk over to me, shake his finger at me in mock anger and give me a kiss on my forehead.

What I truly loved about him was his eyes and heartbeat.

His eyes, sincerity and sexyness in the rarest form. The boy never really told a lie too much but when he did it was because he was either clowning around making me laugh or because he was hurting but didn't want anyone pitying him, but those eyes always told the truth for him and he knew it. All he had to do was look at me and I would nod my head and hold and comfort him. That's the type of understanding and love we had.

Those same eyes could go from being an open sky stars in the early parts of an orangey brown dawn when he woke up; to a dark polluted ocean of pain and self loathing when I'd find him curled up in his bed away from the world, away from me; to a glass of Whiskey with ice and small wet specks of condensation from the cold when he was being seductive or just close. Sometimes, the dark red and green hidden in his eyes would show when he was in deep though, it made his look distant and lost.

His heart was really made of gold because anyone he cared about, he made sure they were well and safe. One day, I had my head on his chest at the park and I heard how synchronized our heartbeats were; the same slow strums of stringed instruments, the only real difference between us was he was a Cello and I, a Viola.

He made me feel wanted after feeling on unwanted and abandoned for so many years, and I loved him for it.

But I let him walk out my life because of a mistake I made and regretted deeply and no matter how much I might have tried, he was hurt and nothing could change that. I'm just sorry I let him go to bed angry. I'm sorry I couldn't tell him goodbye before he left for Iraq. Now all I have left is a picture of how happy we were three summers ago and his favorite flannel to remind me that he left already dead with a broken heart and no clue he would make an amazing father.


©Marie McNeill

Inspired by "Like I'm Gonna Lose You" by Meghan Trainor and John Legend