You Were The First Poem by Riley Choma

The thought of finding your hand was like the thought of jumping off of a cliff.

But finding it- that was as easy as falling.

At first it was just my fingertips, gliding against yours, then my palm.

Waves crashed over me when our palms touched, waves of emotion.

I'd like to think it's because we were special, but the reality is that it was my first jump.

Who wouldn't feel a rush the first time they jumped off of a cliff?

But the little taps of your thumb on mine- the pressure that said 'no pressure...'

I was expecting to thrash when I hit bottom, to come out of it sweating a bit.

But when I got to the bottom, I was home- waves not just crashing over me, but holding me- my hand tight in yours.

I know that we weren't special, but I wish that I could say we were.

Because how empty it sounds to simply say that your hand was soft and small.

But although we weren't special, you were- you were special because you were the first.

You were the first one to show me that sometimes an embrace can feel a lot like home.