When she looked into my eyes, I knew she saw the shattered fragments of my past that formed the jagged edges of my present, slicing her fingers each time she reached for them.
When I spoke, I knew she could only hear the others who came before her. The ones that twisted my words into knotted exaggerations and made it hard for her to tell where the truth began and the lies ended.
When she reached out for me, I cringed at her expectations of smooth skin, but I knew she only found cold hands aching for a warmth that she couldn’t give me.
When she placed her head against my chest, I watched the light in her eyes dim as she heard nothing but the echoed wails of a heart that was too afraid to beat for anyone, let alone me.
When she told me to trust her, I lifted my neck and showed her the still fading bruises from my exes all because I trusted them not to squeeze too tight.
When she begged me to show her, I turned off the lights and told her to that if she could find me in the dark, then she would see all that she needed to see.
When she broke down and asked me why I wouldn’t love her, I knelt before her and told her that I loved her with everything I had.
I told her she was a constant crashing against my shores, wearing down my sands and washing away the remnants of the footprints of my past.
I told her she was the island in the middle of my waters, my haven, my sanctuary.
I told her she was the sun when I was cold, the rain when I was warm, the moon when I was alone, the stars when I couldn’t find my way.
She was the one I found forever in.
And when she walked away, I expected her footprints to vanish behind her.
But still they remain.