I swear I've been doing really
okay.  I take  full breaths  and
I've  been sleeping  almost all
the  way  through   the  night.
I   don't  cry   w h e n   I  walk
through  the  l a s t  place  we
kissed  or  the   final    s p o t
where   you   told   me  you
loved me. I can watch your
favorite movie or listen to
yourfavoritebandwithout
falling apart. The antique
mall no longer turns me
i n t o   a   puddle   and
macaroni  and  cheese
only barely reminds
me  of  our   f i r s t
date. But last night
Kaitlyn and I went
to the  river  and I
stood in the same
patch of dirt where
I watched your notes-
all white and stark in the
moonlight-  begin  t h e i r
journey down south. I sat on
the big rock where Kaitlyn and
Chloe held my hands for what felt
like forever until my chest was rising
and falling  like normal (two months
ago almost to the date but god how
was  it not yesterday?) and  there
were  simply stars stars stars as
f a r  as I could  see, and t h i s
little,     tiny,     insignificant
piece  of  me  missed  you.

my favorite teacher in high school
told me that once  you step  in a
river, you and that river  w i l l
never   be   the   same.   and   i
wonder if we are  l i k e  that
with  each  o t h e r.  do  we
stamp our thumbprints on
people's  chests,  do   w e
never     f o r g e t      the
omnipresent    memory
ofthethings thatwere?
your  t h i n g s   are
swimming in  t h e
gulf of  mexico by
n o w,  i assume-
that     pathetic
letter a b o u t
h o w   y o u
d r e a m e d
you  would
losethelove
of your life
(   m   e   )
forever
(you  did)
is    soaked
and  bleeding
out of its creases-
but i  will  probably
always  remember  the
curve of your mouth and
the sharpness of your laugh.
i do not remember you fondly,
no never fondly, and i only ever
want  to  drink  another  virgil's
rootbeer if i can spit  i t  in your
face  afterward, but i'm  hoping
someday i will   bleed like your
words and god i  will   fly, i can
promise you that. you did   not
break me, you  only taught me
t h a t     hearts,   t h e y     need
styrofoam    fencing-     s o m e
padding but nothing like your
cement  b l o c k s-  and  that  i
deservebetter. ideserveorchids
a n d  sunflowers,   homemade
jam in the middle  of the night
because  us sleeping is out  o f
the question and jesus *******
c h r i s t i deserve a heart that
has nobarriers. i want to bethe
r i v e r,     stampeding    i n t o
someone's life like the scariest
thing they've  ever seen until i
have taught  them  everything
they   could   want   t o   know
a b o u t   the  ramones    a n d
fleetwood m a c  and painting
with  your  eyes  closed. i  just
want     t o    b e     t h e    river.

i think
i've forgotten
how to write.
they say you're
supposed to push
through that, but i
keep writing the
same thing over
and over again. i
can only say "holy
**** i miss you" in
so many ways. i
used to say it in
laced fingers and
lingering forehead
kisses. now i say it
in every syllable of
every word i've
posted on the
internet in case
you might see
them (aside from
the fact that they
would otherwise
drown me in my
sleep) and in
desperate
searches
for notes
that i just
maybe didn't
grab when i
threw out the
final pieces of
your things last
month. i don't
know how to
do this, Ryan.
i can't do this.

you made me
want to go

slower,

breathe
deep er,
notice the
dots you get
on your   face
when  you  need
to shave or the small
fluttering in my chest
when you just said simple
things like "chill out" or
"yeah?" and now i only
want to speed up my
hours   until  i  feel
like   i  can   walk
without my legs
r e m i n d ing
m e        o f
y    o    u
.

there is something serene
about  being  held  under
t h e pressure of an ocean
of a year's  worth of your
words.      i       sunk      in

                               quickly,

my only goal  b e i n g to
find the bottom in hopes
that  the  answer  to   a l l
your  problems might  be
down  there  somewhere,
but instead it  w a s thick
and   dark   and   when  i
looked back  i could  just
barely seethesunthrough
the   water.  n o w   i   am
s        t         u        c         k
in bubbles and blurs and
i swear all these canyons
down herearewhispering
sentences  o f   yours  i've
b e e n  trying   to  forget.
"you are  m y  light at the
end  of  the   t u n n e l . "

... ..... ......... ........... ..... .......... ....... ... it's
reassuring  that  someday    rain   will
not remind me of  you banjos will not
make me think of  y o u r  fingers  my
couch will not whisper  "I    love   you
you know I   love   you" anymore that
song                    you like will not have
your                    laugh  ringing   under
i       t                  my      favorite sweater
w   i   l   l      no    l o n g e r    have   the
lingering s c e n t of your shampoo my
hands will not ache for your hands my
lungs  will   not  burn  from   a i r   that
isn't                                                   yours

I remember the first
time we kissed in
your living room on
one of the hottest
days in June. You
spun me in a circle
to the sound of that
new French record
you had just bought
and then you pulled
me to you
quietly
gently
and with a fire in every
crevice of my body
I said, "You're
tall. I like that." You
ran your thumb down
my ear, whispered,
"I like you" into my
forehead.

i   wish   i
knew  the
right way
toquityou
but   even
think i n g
about     it
makes my
bonesache
help     me
h   e   l    p
myself  t o
s    t   o   p
lovingyou

I
slowly

secretly

etched
my name
into the
skin on
the back
of your
forearm.
You can't
escape me.