Concrete

Somebody once told me that I fall in love with someone
Like it's the first time,
Every time.
These words echo around in my ribcage often.
Take root in my brain like a moral blood clot.
The last time I saw him, he said,
It was too bad I was jaded.
My heart was made of concrete.
And I tried explaining to him that no,
I've just hit my cornerstone.
The turning point.
Maybe I just let too many little pieces of my heart go
Every time I loved someone.
Maybe I just chalked one too many red flags up to
This will be fine,
But it wasn't ever fine.
It was anything but fine.
Maybe I let too many barriers down
And watched too many soldiers cross
And let enough war parties burn my castles down.
The foundations I've built have always been of paper.
And I should have learned how to pour concrete because
I never had a backbone.
Maybe I should be bitter.
Maybe I should stop writing about how much I want to love and instead
Write about how much I
Want to live without being haunted by past shadows.
I want to live.
But living and loving are synonymous in my world,
And I can't take one step out of bed
Without thinking about
What it would be like to wake up to someone every day for the rest of my life
Or going on a first date and
Falling for the way the light hits their jawline
And yes. I still fall in love every time like it's the first time.
But the difference between now and then is
I've learned how to pour concrete.