You were my best friend,
always talking to me,
so fragile and polite.
I've always been jealous,
because you were perfect.
Each kiss was perfect,
each smile
and laugh.
The way yours eyes sparkled,
so perfect.
Love was a feeling,
I felt it.
You felt it.
I didn't deserve you,
the way I looked at it.
When I looked in the mirror,
I saw a puzzle,
with one missing piece.
It was lost, I was lost.
Until the day I met you.
It might have been a miracle.
The words that came out of your mouth,
that Saturday morning.
It was just another walk in the park,
it was until you looked me in the eyes.
You looked upset.
A little sad,
or was it a hurt feeling?
My instincts told me bad things,
but my instincts were wrong.
You put a strand of my hair,
behind my ear.
"You're perfect." you smiled.
I started to smile, kinda.
That's when the sun came out.
"There's one thing I want to change . . ."
You got down on one knee.
That's when I started to shed tears.
"What?"
"Your last name."