I am a poet. I know this because I write poetry. I submit this poem as exhibit A:

The first thing I noticed
When I got here
Was the clouds
The way they hung over everything
Wherever I went
Like billowy onlookers
Watching a horrible scene of
Humanity bleeding itself dry.

The first night in town I had to
Convince her I was still hers.
Every night since, too.
There were no indications otherwise
Of which I was aware
If I had known I needed to make up
For things
I
Had not done to her
I would have been better prepared for
Shots she fired at me,
Hollow-point insults
Spiraling down the barrel of her mouth
Making everything she said look like muzzle flash
She was using to scare me away before I could hurt her.

I thought my love was bullet proof,
I believed my compassion and understanding
Would spread the force
Across all of me,
Stopping her words from piercing my heart.
I was wrong,
She had .50 caliber insults she kept hidden for special occasions
She never believed things were good,
She waited behind the corner every day
For a surprise attack that never came.
So she made
Unanswered phone calls during work hours
Into a smoking gun,
Telling her I didn’t love her enough,
My love was not enough.

My heart bears the scars of her attacks
Will bear the scars for longer than I would like to admit.

When I could not take the battery
Anymore, I stepped off the range and left her with
Paper target messages and text message pigeons
To shoot at.
I could still hear the ricocheting shots
Ringing in the distance
As she screamed insults at me after I walked away.
All I want is for her to run out of ammunition
Stop firing blame at everyone who
Walks away when she takes aim.
I hope someday she can put her weapons down and
Love with her heart, but not lose her head.
For right now, I’d just settle for not carpet-bombing me with accusations
She tells me I broke all the promises I ever made.
She knows I hate breaking...

I am a poet. I know this because I write poetry. I submit this poem as exhibit A:

The first thing I noticed
When I got here
Was the clouds
The way they hung over everything
Wherever I went
Like billowy onlookers
Watching a horrible scene of
Humanity bleeding itself dry.

The first night in town I had to
Convince her I was still hers.
Every night since, too.
There were no indications otherwise
Of which I was aware
If I had known I needed to make up
For things
I
Had not done to her
I would have been better prepared for
Shots she fired at me,
Hollow-point insults
Spiraling down the barrel of her mouth
Making everything she said look like muzzle flash
She was using to scare me away before I could hurt her.

I thought my love was bullet proof,
I believed my compassion and understanding
Would spread the force
Across all of me,
Stopping her words from piercing my heart.
I was wrong,
She had .50 caliber insults she kept hidden for special occasions
She never believed things were good,
She waited behind the corner every day
For a surprise attack that never came.
So she made
Unanswered phone calls during work hours
Into a smoking gun,
Telling her I didn’t love her enough,
My love was not enough.

My heart bears the scars of her attacks
Will bear the scars for longer than I would like to admit.

When I could not take the battery
Anymore, I stepped off the range and left her with
Paper target messages and text message pigeons
To shoot at.
I could still hear the ricocheting shots
Ringing in the distance
As she screamed insults at me after I walked away.
All I want is for her to run out of ammunition
Stop firing blame at everyone who
Walks away when she takes aim.
I hope someday she can put her weapons down and
Love with her heart, but not lose her head.
For right now, I’d just settle for not carpet-bombing me with accusations
She tells me I broke all the promises I ever made.
She knows I hate breaking promises.
She fires at me at long range now,
She’s been training for years.
She often hits her target and the
Distance
Doesn’t make it hurt any less.

The clouds still watch me,
Hanging over me like concerned parents.
They lean close to each other,
Whispering the wind over the ocean water.
They grow thick with the coming rain
Until the tears they shed wash it all away.

I walked away because I loved her,
You can’t stand too close without hating her.

(the end)

All I can say is, it was not a boring year. Love is a funny thing. I don't think it's one thing though. It's defined by the absence of the object of it much more often than by the presence of the one we love. You don't notice that you love someone until they aren't there with you. Maybe that's how it's supposed to be. Maybe that's just what we've made it. The only thing I know is I'm going to to keep loving every chance I get, because really we don't get that many chances and I've already fucked up all I can spare.