Falling in love
I saw you on Tinder on a Tuesday night
and instantly swiped right.
It was a match and we set a date for the next day.
You were a vision while the world turned grey.
You said, “Pinch me, I think this might be a dream.”
as even the waiters shot us glances while the plates, glasses, lights gleamed.
Conversation flowed freely as the champagne, to our marvel.
And our eyes took on a sparkle.
This could be it.
It was a night the stars seemed brighter than usual,
when I nervously said, “I love you”. You held my hands and said “The feeling’s mutual.”
With a smile that made my heart weep,
and a touch that left me longing we were somewhere discreet.
Time turned into a giddy rush til we saw each other again,
an intoxication we couldn’t feign.
You called me “irresistibly beautiful, smart, and funny” in that order.
And when I told you my dreams, not once did your smile falter.
My future became ours.
You picked our home for us; the furniture, a fridge that’s smart.
I pictured you on a throne, the king of my heart.
We went for a picnic where you offered me an apple
and said, “If love was a religion, ours deserves a chapel.”
I rolled my eyes, “You’re so corny!”
and laughed as I bumped your knee with my knee.
You gathered me close while the storm passed by.
I lay awake many a night, your heartbeat a lullaby.
I am so lucky.
I was neither my mother nor yours,
it was only love that me do the chores.
I quietly chose a colour for the living room,
trying not to take up too much of your space in our dream home.
I counted my blessings
even when the signs were niggling.
You were perfect, my love, my dream come true.
You just didn’t stop if I said “no.” But it was nothing I couldn’t hide;
no relationship is as perfect as it seems on the outside.
The night of our first anniversary.
3 am, the door slams.
You kick off your shoes as you clamber into bed, leaving me cold like the rack of lamb
sitting in the oven, forsaken.
“Which snake tempted you from our Haven?”
was what I screamed when I wove enough courage in the morning.
You glanced at me with your bloodshot eyes, hungover, moaning,
“Why and who on earth would I cheat on you with?”
Leaving me feeling small and stupid to my pith.
I wondered, “What good’s your love if I can’t feel it?”
As you got on your knees, the words playing out like we were in a skit.
“I love you, will you be my wife and make me the happiest man alive?”
I looked in your eyes and my life flashed before mine, thirty-five, forty-five, and fifty-five.
A life of sacrifice
And a life that’s yours.
I said no.
Watched you stare, then grovel. Then yell “The gall”
And realised between gasps stolen from tears the heart that’s broken is only mine after all.
Quick, hurried steps to the car in shame,
as voices in my head screamed,
“You could have made it work if you just adjust.
Now you’re twenty-eight and there goes your last chance.”
But I’ve awakened from my trance.
I know I’ll find love again.
I just need to heal from within until then.
Becoming the protagonist in the story of my life was long drawn.
Until one night, braver, stronger, I slid the “discovery” on.
I saw you on Tinder on a Tuesday night.
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