I think there was an extra bit of pain because 2022 felt like the true finality of youth. It was the last summer a good portion of my girlfriends were still single. We were all remote because of Covid. Earning levels were high and free time was plentiful. Each weekend we would play with our friends in the snow and drink beers until we couldn’t keep our eyes open. Losing him felt like losing the last remaining bit I had been holding onto of that last year of girlhood.

The true close of a season that felt so crisp and filled with endless possibilities and limited responsibilities.

How could you not love someone who helped you feel like a kid again? How could you not be heartbroken for it to end?

In the end, I will say the same thing about Greg that I said about Lincoln.

Past the deep layers of rose tinted hues.
It’s right there.
There was nothing particularly special about him, but the way I loved him was.
The year I loved him was.
That’s what you remember.
How you felt with them.

I knew I liked you on the first date.
You called me out on my ****.
But in a way that made me laugh at myself instead of go on guard or be defensive.
It’s a hard thing to do and you executed flawlessly.
Typically a skill reserved for close friends.
You nailed it within 2 hours of meeting me.

He told me there was no such thing as selfless love
That all love came from getting something
That people didn’t love people that didn’t give them something back

I thought about how wrong he was, as I leaned over the sink brushing my teeth, still loving him 11 months later

And how it was sad he’d never know I was right
And just how right I was

What am I doing?
And what for?
This apartment.
This life.

The wealth?
What do I think it will do for me?
Am I right?
Do I care if I get it?

When I am the happiest it is with people I love in beautiful places.
But when I am there for too long I feel guilty for not building.
Building what?
And what for?

Why am I rushing?

My yard man once told me, he rushed past more good things than he’d rushed to.
I think about him a lot.

Why am I in a hurry?
For fun
To go faster
Next thing
Next thing next thing
Until…..
nothing

If I had to choose a flower to be
I’d choose the phlox on the side of the road I see
Interlaced within the fences
Little metal squares and wooden posts their only defenses

And when summer goes, I will too.
And I know I could choose a flower that’s in ever bloom.

But the free, un-mowed phlox is more me.

He leaned against the wall above me, one arm over my head and as he looked down I said “this is it.”  

“What?” He looked into my eyes as if there was a teleprompter inside with the answer scrolling on dim explaining what I meant.

“This…” I lose track of my words while meeting his gaze.

“This. Is as happy as I get.”

Looking for comfort
On the screen of a device that won’t give it to me
Fatigue finally wins