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The Boy I Meet at 19
<p>I’m scared of the boy I’ll meet at 19 —</p><p>Because I’m a hopeless romantic
</p><p>Who often deludes herself at the slightest of actions.
</p><p>With a self-built, tough exterior,
</p><p>And a heart that bruises at every glance.
</p><p>What if I meet him and think he’s the one?
</p><p>What if he is the one… and I can’t see it?
</p><p>He might be the first
</p><p>To look at me like I’m sunlight —
</p><p>Like I’m rare,
</p><p>Like wonder lives in the curve of my smile.
</p><p>I’ll laugh at his jokes,
</p><p>Cry over his silence,
</p><p>Write sonnets about the way he says my name.
</p><p>He might be the first to see through the tough-girl act,
</p><p>To bring down the walls I’ve so carefully built.
</p><p>He might scale them,
</p><p>Or tear them down —</p><p>And lead me to a garden I never knew existed.
</p><p>One where my tough skin softens,
</p><p>And my heart is treated like something sacred.
</p><p>He might teach me
</p><p>How a sentence can steal sleep.
</p><p>How a phone can become a shrine
</p><p>To unread messages.
</p><p>How longing can taste like honey,
</p><p>Yet burn like fire.
</p><p>I may think he’s it — the one.
</p><p>I may swear he’s different.
</p><p>And maybe he is.
</p><p>But not always in the way I hope.
</p><p>He might love me
</p><p>The best way he knows how…
</p><p>But he’s still learning how to be a man,
</p><p>Just as I’m still becoming
</p><p>The woman I’m meant to be.
</p><p>And sometimes,
</p><p>That love won’t be enough.
</p><p>Maybe he’ll be gentle.
</p><p>Maybe he’ll be distant.
</p><p>Maybe he’ll vanish without a goodbye.
</p><p>Or maybe he’ll stay —
</p><p>And I’ll be the one who walks away,
</p><p>Because I never seem to get it right.
</p><p>Maybe I’ll lose parts of me trying to keep him.
</p><p>Maybe I’ll find parts of me I never knew were missing.
</p><p>Either way,
</p><p>The boy I meet at 19
</p><p>Will leave fingerprints on my story —
</p><p>And the nature of those prints
</p><p>Already haunts my mind.
</p><p>Not always a chapter I reread,
</p><p>But always one I remember.
</p><p>Because at 19,
</p><p>Love isn’t always forever,
</p><p>But it’s often the first time
</p><p>You experience anything real.
</p><p>I hate to admit my fears and worries.
</p><p>But I’ve heard enough horror stories
</p><p>To know not to give out my heart at 19.
</p><p>Still…
</p><p>What if he comes
</p><p>And steals it regardless?
</p><p>What if he brings down my walls?
</p><p>Should I fortify my heart in advance?
</p><p>Build titanium fences around my soul,
</p><p>A house of tungsten around my love?
</p><p>Should I bury emotion,
</p><p>And drift through 19 like a ghost?
</p><p>Or wear a fake exterior
</p><p>So he never gets too close?
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