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The love of my life wakes me up in the morning with the rustle 

of boiling water and the pop of a toaster. The love of my life knows 

to rub my back when I’m on the phone with my mom. 

The love of my life wipes the dried lip gloss from the rim of my cup 

and teaches me to pick up after myself. The love of my life learns 

to be patient because I can be a slow learner and I’m mad about it. 

The love of my life knows how I want it and when I want it 

and how I like it and when I like it and when I don’t. Maybe you aren’t 

the love of my life, maybe this is just an outline of what I want my lover 

to pick up on along the way, since I’ve had so many “loves of my life” 

in my lifetime. Because I love like that, with all of me in every moment 

we get, even if it’s only a few spare seconds before it’s time to give it up.

Because I’ve learned to remember us in moments: 

in the sun,

                                on the sofa,

                                                              in a twin-sized bed.

Because the full story isn’t always what I make it up to be, but I treasure 

the fragile and ephemeral state of how beautiful we worked together 

before we shifted apart, like plates of ice blanketing a lake making room

for spring. Because even though the mirror is dirty, I love to look at us 

anyway. Because maybe you are         the love of my life.

Because if I was thinking of someone after us, I wouldn’t really love you.

 

I'm a Junior Creative Writing major and Editor in Cheif for the Her Campus chapter at Louisiana Tech University, who hopes to be a professional writer/editor one day! I love to joke around, but also talk about critical moments in my life and those that surround me to hopefully offer entertainment and guidance to my readers!
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