I sent it to him one day, as I always did. I always had to remind him once a day that I was thinking of him. We lived in houses with no space for me. I was an intruder in our love.
In my life, I love you more.
It was true. I had forgotten how to laugh by this point. I had forgotten that I used to see my friends much more than this. I forgot that I existed in a world of my own. I forgot that now was a time and place, as well. I only knew that one day, we would be married, we would have children, he would work and I would stay at home until he wanted me to go back to work. We would buy houses and cars, because he wanted to. We would attend the events he wanted to. I would be quiet when he wanted me to, have *** when he wanted to. He would have *** when he wanted to. I would forgive him when he needed me to, I would excuse his affair because he was a byproduct of something much greater than us. There was only enough space for one of us to be wrong. I would forget that my mother raised me on her own. I would forget that having a family wasn't always better than no family at all, when he needed me to. I would stay in a loveless marriage because I needed to remember that there was no one better than him. I wouldn’t ask questions about where he had been, because he needed to be here and there. I would raise our kids the way I didn’t want to. I would not get tattoos I’d always wanted to get.
I already know this song.
He already knew this song, maybe one day before me he had heard it and thought of someone else. Maybe after me he had heard it and thought of someone else.
Listen, it made me think of you.
I had to love you more. I loved you so porous, boneless, skinless, brainless. You already knew this song. You always knew so much, I know you wanted to think that. You, too, knew that one day, I would stop loathing myself for long enough to leave you.
Oh.
I just wanted you to let me sing the song, too.