I sometimes wish you came before,
When I was young, unsure, and more—
More open, maybe, less afraid,
Less worn by choices that I made.
I wonder how it might have been,
To grow with you from deep within.
To write our tale from page one’s start,
To never know a world apart.
But then I see what time has done,
How all I lost led me to one—
To you, who came when skies were clear,
And made the waiting disappear.
You’re not my first, that much is true,
But love began again with you.
So maybe late—but never wrong,
You are my heart’s most perfect song.
Sometimes I catch myself wondering. What if I had met you earlier? What if our paths had crossed before all the heartbreak, before I learned how to guard my heart?
Would we have loved the same way? Would we have lasted, or simply passed each other by, unready for something so real?
I used to wish you were my first. But now, I realize you came exactly when I needed you most. Not to teach me how to love, but to remind me that love can be soft, steady,
and finally safe.
You are not the beginning of my story, but you are the best part of it. The chapter where everything starts to make sense.
So no, you weren’t the first. But you are the one I’m most thankful for.