Butterflies are Rare

I confess my very first love 
was the one that gave me butterflies
the one, that made me
swing my arms around
in eternal hope
of never letting go
 
his hands, I wanted to hold
twenty-four-seven
and my smile?
well, it just wouldn’t let me rest
not even as I slept
in sweet slumberbash
 
alas
 
it simply wasn't to be 
and no matter of all the in-betweens  
nothing could have saved our love  
 
i'm not regretful
actually i’m most grateful
 
 
because love is…
 
profound pain
immense happiness
instability
loyalty
deceit
and sometimes jealousy  
hell, even death 
 
but I wouldn’t want it any other way
 
because my darling
butterflies are rare.