your wonderwall.

& afterall, you’re my wonderwall.

Months upon months ago, we played wonderwall, by oasis, on repeat as we drove in the darkness to a friend’s house. We pulled up and sat, hand in hand, just listening to the song. He smiled, said he liked the song, that it just might be, at that moment, his favorite.

Days later, long after we should have both been tucked into bed, fast asleep, we were texting each other.
“Maybe it’s like the song says. You’re my wonderwall. You’re supposed to save me,” he said, with a smiley face. We were talking about all the hard things we’ve both been through. The decisions we’ve made, and kept making.
I thought, at the time, maybe he was just trying to make me feel better, about things.
But, he’s right. Loving someone is all about helping them. Saving them, in a way.
It’s like this; he loves me. The love he gives me, even in the randomest of ways, makes me strong. I’m here, not giving up, because of him.
And, because I’m here, he’s making choices he wouldn’t otherwise make. Hand in hand, we’re changing each other. Or rather, growing with each other.

I think, in a way, this is my first real relationship. Relationships that consist of lies, yelling, and absolute hate aren’t real.
This, being a wonderwall, being the person the other wants around most… that’s real.

I was so in love with the idea of being in love, I forgot the most important thing: it’s not being in love that matters. It’s the smile, the laughter, the looks you give each other, the way a simple hand on your shoulder or around your waist can make you feel. It’s the sound of his voice, a simple good morning babe text message.

It’s like the song says; I don’t believe that anybody feels the way I do, about him now.

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