Shelby

My least favorite season was winter before I met you.
Your last name is akin to a season but it doesn't befit you.
Winters are supposed to be cold and desolate.
Yet around you, I feel the opposite. Feelings of warmth, understanding, and belonging are innate.
I think about you a lot more than I probably should.
I feel guilty for thinking about doing what I would.
Thousands of poems are written about love and understanding.
Yet for this one, I don't want this part to rhyme.
Why?
It just seems right, considering how safe I feel near you.
You are the vast mountains,
The endless sky.
With every breath I take, one is taken away.
You're beautiful.
But you're scary.
I don't know if you have another special man in your life, and part of me is too afraid to ask.
The dime of hope that I wagered on you is my last.
Even if there was no competition for me, I don't want to fail you in any way.
The very fear of the ever elusive 'enough' ensnares me every day.
Will I stop liking you?
Will I be enough?
Will I be able to see this through?
Will I shut you out when times get rough?
Will I be the man I wish I could be?
Or will I fall short and live in my own misery?
I have so many doubts but I want to try.
The purest spark I've had in 5 years is between you and I.
Oh, but in the estate of my mind, you are the honored resident.
I try to keep everything even, but my favoritism is all but evident.
We've only known each other for over a week and I feel like a modern day Romeo.
But Juliet, I'm falling for you like a domino.