All the firsts I want to remember… were with you.
From that clueless summer at eighteen
to the summer I turned thirty-one,
carrying everything I’d learned.
Even in the seasons without you,
it felt like you were still here—woven into everything.
“We’re just friends. There’s nothing special between us.”
You said that with a poker face.
But because we were friends,
I held on through all those lonely days.
And still… you don’t seem to realize it.
So here I am again—repeating the same hopeless effort.
“Did I ask if you needed a man? If you do… I’ll be that man.”
You need to meet the thirty-one-year-old me.
The me who sees everything clearly now.
If only you’d look at me—truly look this time.
“You’ve become such a troublemaker.”
Now that you’re back…
this is only the beginning.
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