All These Things Are Yours

I want you to remember that all these things are yours. 

That before he bought you those apple cider donuts on that warm October day, you had discovered some the year before. That before he gave you flowers, you plucked yellow weeds in your grandma’s backyard. You deemed them beautiful enough to adorn the kitchen sink before his store-bought ones ever did.

The ice cream you had on your first date you had shared before with a best friend. For the two of you, it was a discovery. With him, it was a familiarity.

And the movie you watched on Halloween was one you had watched in college. The second time around was funny, but it could never beat your first-time laughter.

Before he bought pumpkin pies with you, you ate them dozens of times in Thanksgivings before. His Christmas gift wasn’t your first gift from a boy, and his New Year’s kiss wasn’t your first New Year’s kiss, either.

When you dropped your penny in the fountain and wished for him to be yours, you had wished for many things in fountains many times over as a kid. You know now it is foolish to waste wishes on people or other unpredictable things.

The space he occupied in your home is not new, and before him you occupied whole rooms. He wasn’t the first to touch your heart and break it, and you’ve learned that nothing can really break you when you’ve already experienced what it feels like to be broken.

When you go through the seasons, I hope you can remember how much is for you and that a person could never take these things away from you. And one day, in one season, perhaps you will discover something new. And you won’t have to remember anymore that these things are yours, because of course they always were.