The Last

Why is it I want so many of my last to be with you.
It may sound a bit morbid  but not to me.
The thoughts ,the endless list in my head.
Every moment imagined in my mind.
Every second willed to existence with you.

The last to call me beautiful even now.
When in truth you were truly the first.
The last to see the true goodness in me.
The last to make me so dam angry.
When again in truth you are the first.

I want you to be the last to make me cry.
Tears of every shade full of emotion.
I want you to be the last to make me smile.
With your wise unpredictable self.
The last who sees me as his equal.

I crave so many lasts with you.
So many scenarios I can feel them.
In truth you have been so many  firsts.
Guess it would be hard to make you my last.
That would you make you my always instead.