That Bike That Carried Me

It’s been well over ten years since I’ve seen you,

yet I dreamt of you this morning.

Isn’t that wild?

If I was blindfolded,

I know I’d remember your perfume and scent,

the way it clung in between journal pages.

You’ve made me wonder,

do we ever fall out of love,

with our first love all the way?

I think back,

remembering when I cried profusely.

Heartbreak, as a stake driven through;

it had all finally settled in,

and ever since,

I know I’ll never love exactly that same way ever again.

I can love differently,

maybe, even better in some ways,

but never quite the way I loved you.

I remember the woods on Baker Boulevard

where you used to live.

The thrill of every morning bike ride,

over to your house for reading morning devotionals together.

I’m truly happy and proud of your husband.

He won your heart and held it fast.

That was something I just couldn’t figure out how to do.

I am truly proud of your children too,

for they were meant to be.

Alas, I’ll remain in your forever-past.