you were a thrill to me, my love.

(you were a thrill, my love. a roller coaster ride, a tsunami tide, a heavy metal band, a catch me if you can.)

our eyes met like magnets. no effort made, no roaming the room. i walked in and your eyes locked with mine.

we could leave it at that. two sentences and then comes "the end" for we both know where it goes from here; the stereotypical story of a bad boy and a good girl and how they had a summer of infatuation.

to the onlooker our story may seem cliche, but to us this is our life history. a chapter that has passed but doesn't go unread.

our love was as fickle as a kid in a candy store. we both didn't know what we wanted but we knew that we wanted a thrill so we went for it. and we fought and i cried and you drank and part of our hearts died (for every thrill has a cost).

and i can promise you this: you were a thrill to me; dangerous and intoxicating. i wanted to drink it all in, feel your skin on my skin, as we ate up those hot summer days by the spoonful.

our paths collided and our stories contrasted. you were james dean: every girl's dream and every father's nightmare. you showed up with cigarettes, tattoos and booze. you had a roaming heart hungry for adventure, life, romance.

and i was a thrill to you, you said; fragile and delicate. more doris day than betty rizzo. more earl gray than whiskey. i had a story so polar opposite than yours. i had a life so white-picket fence like and you came from a broken home with broken love and broken promises. i spent my days in church. you spent yours in a pub. i was naive and a hopeless romantic. you were cynical and rough around the edges.

but you made me question. made me ponder. made me wander.

and i made you laugh and feel love again and i gave you hugs and pb&j sandwiches.

and we were two kids chasing a thrill and we both knew it wouldn't, couldn't, shouldn't last.

but that doesn't change the fact that (you were a thrill to me, my love. a question left unanswered, a dream that never finished.)