Fireworks
She asked me what love felt like.
I paused before saying,
It’s like hearing your favorite song on repeat.
It’s like fireworks on the Fourth of July.
It’s like the whipped cream from hot cocoa, smudged across your upper lip.
So it never hurts? she asked.
I paused before saying,
Love never hurts.
If it does, you’re not doing it right.
Loving never hurts.
Losing it does.
She asked me what I learned from love.
I paused before saying,
Compassion.
Their pain is your pain.
Your dreams are their dreams.
They are a part of you,
whatever they feel, you feel too.
Do you think you’ll ever love again? she asked.
I paused before saying,
In the way that I loved him?
I am not sure,
But I certainly do hope so.
It is the hope that I can one day attain such a remarkable feeling once more;
That is what keeps me going and believing –
to know that something so amazing exists.
She asked me why I loved the idea of love so much.
I paused before saying,
Fireworks are my favorite.
