april morgen

writing love letters in cities i'll never call home

[lemonadeangelwriting]

the first boy i ever loved the one i wrote so many poems about (with dark blue eyes and dusty hair and a smile that used to show for me) is gone. nothing but a memory. when they told me he was dead it was like the air was sucked out of my lungs even though i haven't loved him for so many years.  your first love really is different, though, isn't it? and i had so many questions to ask still that will now die with him. i didn't know six years ago that the complete end of our story would be hateful glares across the room. for some reason i always thought someday, maybe forty years from now, we would meet by chance in a grocery store and apologize for breaking each other's hearts when we were young and stupid. i thought that maybe we could be friends again after all those years. but instead,  you died in your twenties and stole all the possibilities away from us.

i’ve seen fire and i’ve seen rain // by april

[lemonadeangelwriting]

someday, someone's going to love you so much that you forget your heart's ever been broken. and when that day comes, you'll be nothing but grateful you never gave up on love.

take it from someone who knows // by april

[lemonadeangelwriting]

it’s quite strange, honestly, how the second he came into my life everything turned into a great big love story. it all was one giant prologue before him, all leading in a back-and-forth-and-all-over zig zag into his embrace. i can’t believe i didn’t see him coming from the start because it was so obviously going to be him. from the moment i first held his hand, i knew it was supposed to be him.

thoughts after living three-and-a-half years in this story // by april (via lemonadeangelwriting)

[lemonadeangelwriting]

it’s quite strange, honestly, how the second he came into my life everything turned into a great big love story. it all was one giant prologue before him, all leading in a back-and-forth-and-all-over zig zag into his embrace. i can’t believe i didn’t see him coming from the start because it was so obviously going to be him. from the moment i first held his hand, i knew it was supposed to be him.

thoughts after living three-and-a-half years in this story // by april

[lemonadeangelwriting]

someday, i'm going to wake up and see you asleep next to me every single morning and i don't think i will ever get tired of it.

i know i won’t // by april

[lemonadeangelwriting]

i didn't believe deep, reciprocal, selfless love existed. i was a firm supporter in the idea that you couldn't be half of a whole, that soulmates didn't exist. but then i met him. when he holds me, my heart is full. when he listens to me, i feel understood. from the moment i met him, i've been at ease. we fight and he gets me to talk because he knows i struggle to speak up sometimes. he feels lost so i listen to him ramble at 3am and remind him i will always be his biggest supporter no matter what he does. we know how to soothe each other, make each other laugh, cry, get angry-- we know ourselves and each other; entirely whole on our own, but two halves of one whole together.

complements // by april

[lemonadeangelwriting]

i. summer in the oppressive heat and bright sunlight, we walked side-by-side as friends; but i loved you, and in july, after far too many shots of vodka, i told you. ii. autumn we never spoke of what i had said, so i assumed i must have imagined telling you the way i felt; later in october, we kissed for the very first time, and you told me you loved me three weeks after. iii. winter we got into the habit of taking off each other’s clothes and calling the other ‘mine’;  and by march, you were the only one i had left,  not that either of us cared. iv. spring the whole world came back to life as we learned how to fight, then talk things out; in june, we spoke of forevers and figured out how to become something that would actually last. and close to a year later, now, i think we really did.

love, the one who will always look at you like you are the world // by april (via lemonadeangelwriting)

[lemonadeangelwriting]

i. summer in the oppressive heat and bright sunlight, we walked side-by-side as friends; but i loved you, and in july, after far too many shots of vodka, i told you. ii. autumn we never spoke of what i had said, so i assumed i must have imagined telling you the way i felt; later in october, we kissed for the very first time, and you told me you loved me three weeks after. iii. winter we got into the habit of taking off each other’s clothes and calling the other ‘mine’;  and by march, you were the only one i had left,  not that either of us cared. iv. spring the whole world came back to life as we learned how to fight, then talk things out; in june, we spoke of forevers and figured out how to become something that would actually last. and close to a year later, now, i think we really did.

love, the one who will always look at you like you are the world // by april (via lemonadeangelwriting)

[lemonadeangelwriting]

i. summer in the oppressive heat and bright sunlight, we walked side-by-side as friends; but i loved you, and in july, after far too many shots of vodka, i told you. ii. autumn we never spoke of what i had said, so i assumed i must have imagined telling you the way i felt; later in october, we kissed for the very first time, and you told me you loved me three weeks after. iii. winter we got into the habit of taking off each other’s clothes and calling the other ‘mine’;  and by march, you were the only one i had left,  not that either of us cared. iv. spring the whole world came back to life as we learned how to fight, then talk things out; in june, we spoke of forevers and figured out how to become something that would actually last. and close to a year later, now, i think we really did.

love, the one who will always look at you like you are the world // by april

[lemonadeangelwriting]

“i held your hand for the first time yesterday, and that feeling of our fingers interlocked and your eyes gazing into mine- never before has anything felt so right.”

— my heart skipped a beat // by april (via lemonadeangelwriting)

[memories]

My body is but a #word temple.

[memories]

Do not blame me for who I am. The doctor prescribed me 20 mL of #love poetry twice a day.

[lemonadeangelwriting]

“at this point, i’ve stopped focusing on the distance about to cut my heart in two. i just look at him, and i feel the moment; the wind brushing over my skin, his hand on my arm. i’m trying to memorize everything exactly as it is because these times we have are soon to be times we had, and i never want to forget the carefree, reckless love of my youth.”

— and they are now just times we had // by april

[lemonadeangelwriting]

“when i was fifteen, i thought i knew what love was. i thought it was a boy with curly hair and cold eyes who listened to pop punk and went to concerts. he smoked too much weed, but he was a genius at math. he knew how to make me weak but not how to stay. when i was sixteen, i thought love did not exist. i thought because the first boy i ever loved had been deceptive, how could healthy, reciprocated emotion ever occur? so i settled for a boy who told me i was beautiful on good days, but on bad days, he threatened to hurt himself or me. i told myself i could learn to be okay with this, but i eventually gained enough strength to leave. when i was seventeen, i thought love could only be found in friends. i surrounded myself with people who were there for me, and i gave up everything to be there for them. even when it was draining, exhausting, manipulative, and possessive, i still went back to the same people so they could hurt me all over again. i was blinded by my own attachments to people, so that i could not see the way they were treating me. when i was eighteen, i found love when i was not looking. it was blond hair, green eyes, and a sense of humor just like my own. it was long walks and late night talks long before he even asked me on a date. he showed me what i deserved in a relationship, and i gave him all the love i could. and i learned so slowly what love is, and i got to experience all of it with another person who was learning, too.”

— i learned all about love // by april

[lemonadeangelwriting]

“sometimes i try to stir up sad memories. i try to relive that horrible, hollow pain i felt in my chest when you left. i try to force myself to remember the bitter taste of heartbreak and the salt from tears i’d only let go when i was alone in my car. but the truth is, i just don’t care anymore. i don’t care about you even slightly, and i’m not sure why i ever did. maybe it’s because i was young and naive and searching for love in all the wrong places. maybe it’s because you were older and mysterious and wouldn’t let me leave you unnoticed. no matter what the reason was, it is irrelevant now. and the girl you hurt so deeply? she is dead, buried a thousand miles away, and no one mourns her passing anymore.”

— and not even she loves you from the other side // by april

[lemonadeangelwriting]

sometimes i try to stir up sad memories.  i try to relive that horrible, hollow pain i felt in my chest when you left. i try to force myself to remember the bitter taste of heartbreak and the salt from tears i'd only let go when i was alone in my car. but the truth is, i just don't care anymore.  i don't care about you even slightly, and i'm not sure why i ever did.  maybe it's because i was young and naive and searching for love in all the wrong places. maybe it's because you were older and mysterious and wouldn't let me leave you unnoticed. no matter what the reason was, it is irrelevant now. and the girl you hurt so deeply?  she is dead, buried a thousand miles away, and no one mourns her passing anymore.

and not even she loves you from the other side // by april

[lemonadeangelwriting]

“it’s another lonely saturday night, and i can hear the crickets outside chirping, but it’s far too early for them to be so noisy, isn’t it? maybe not; after all, i did move a thousand miles away, and things are different here. the weather is warm and rainy, almost tropical. it’s unfamiliar. everything here is, or at least it was. now, i can drive the roads without a gps, and i know the best places in the area to go for food, and i love the city with all that i am. but you aren’t here, and so it is quite an empty life. i find small happinesses, but nothing can compare to what i feel when i am in your arms. nothing could ever even touch the pure joy of the adventures we share together. so i count down the days until i’ll see you again, and i keep writing so many love letters to you from cities i’ll never call home.”

— lonely saturday 2000 miles from home // by april