his name sounds like almost
and i can’t help but imagine sometimes what would have happened if we had met earlier,
before i knew what i needed

it feels like he is a step i skipped
and even though i reached my destination,
i still wander back and wonder i missed
what lovely vista points i never got to see

if people were buildings, he would be a cabin in the woods
not a home, but a place to run and escape to
a warm fireplace smile with happy memories perched on the mantle
a comfortable silence to rest in

but relationships are not vacation houses
and we are not right for each other no matter how many times i ask what if.

his name sounds like another time, another place, another life
but not this one

my mind is a mess that i refuse to clean because it is the only way i know where everything is
unfinished thoughts piled on a chair to be dealt with neve–“later”
ugly memories shoved to the back of the closet in an attempt to pretend they don’t exist
half-baked ideas scattered on the desk, waiting to be made
random items pinned to the wall that will soon either connect together or be thrown out
and pizza everywhere

if relationships were seasons, they'd call us autumn
because every moment, I'm falling behind or you're leaving
either way, it is a relentless race to bleak and barren ending

you miss me in the way someone might miss their arm
but I miss you in the way they'd miss their liver
and mine is in already bad shape; despite the name, I still feel like dying

the tortoise and the hare - but there is no race, only life

the hare lives in the fast lane
smart, witty, successful
knows only how to travel at top speed
hopping from great opportunity to greater opportunity
but still wants to be with the tortoise so it runs back now and then

the tortoise moves too slowly
hides in its shell too much
takes too long to understand things
and is not made for a world that demands speed and competition and winning
it loves the hare, but because of that, will not stop it from dashing to the spotlight it was meant to be in

so tell me how to resolve this conflict
because the hare cannot keep moving backwards, and the tortoise cannot keep watching it leave

i. you are one in 7.4 billion.
ii. if life handed me lemons, i would make you lemon bars instead.
iii. i used to think you would be the only thing I'd see in a crowded room, but you were the one who pointed out the way the light burst through the window and the tiny pieces that kept the building from falling apart.
iv. you are not the silver lining but the cloud, the rain that reminds the flowers to grow."
v. maybe we were a match made in heaven. or maybe we were already ignited, a wildfire burning our names across the sky.
vi. maybe lightning can't strike the same place twice, but your touch keeps telling me that static electricity can.
vii. they said finding someone like you was looking for a needle in a haystack, but i used a magnet instead.
viii. everything happens for a reason, but sometimes that reason doesn't have to be profound. sometimes it's just having someone to eat cereal and watch cartoons with on a lazy saturday morning.
ix. i didn't fall for you. i scaled the cliffside to find where you were painting the stars.
x. love isn't blind; it is seeing someone else clearly for the first time.
xi. when i first met you, my heart didn't skip a beat. it pounded on my ribs like a boxer, spelling over and over, "this is the one. this is the one."

breathe.
the clock slowly ticks down to end my twenty first year.
breathe.
i think i was expecting something a little more dramatic. loud music, flashing lights. at the very least a few friends beside me and a strong drink in hand.
breathe.
but maybe i don't need so much excitement anyway; i've had two full decades of it and it's been enough for a lifetime.
breathe.
in fact, i spent most of those years hoping that would be my entire lifetime,
so many times thinking i would die before this day
so many times desperately wishing i would die before this day.
breathe.
so maybe tonight's spectacle will just be the first breath i take to begin the rest of my life.
maybe it will be the fact that i choose to breathe at all.

...

breathe.
i am still here.
breathe.
i know now that wanting to die doesn't mean you hate life. and loving life doesn't mean you have to be scared of dying.

breathe.
i must keep reminding myself again and again that i am loved despite the fact that i'm alone on the couch with nothing but a blanket for company.
breathe.
the smiles of my friends flash before me one by one, loosening the knot in my chest.
breathe.
i know the planet is beautiful, but god, it cannot compare to the sound of my friends laughing, as if their joy were weightless. carefully, i stitch pieces of it into a patchwork umbrella for the next rainy day.
breathe.
i have looked love in the face and i am slowly thawing.

breathe.
i see again every time i fell on my face, every time i pushed someone else down trying to get up, every clenched fist and tightened jaw.
breathe.
i have had to fight too hard to get here. but i guess that really means i learned how to take punches and maybe throw one back every so often.
breathe.
my knuckles are constantly bruised and my skin scars too easily. i am not allowed to forget the hell i've dug my way out of, and i am thankful. it makes the sun feel a little warmer every morning.

breathe.
lately i've been speaking a little too quickly, tripping over words like the world's clumsiest track runner. there is too much going on in my head to keep up with my mouth.
breathe.
and is my voice too loud because people are complaining about how i can't whisper, also everyone else needs to talk so should i just stop now...
breathe.
...no, this is still a hundred times better than when i never spoke at all.

breathe.
i am learning how to gently fall asleep in an empty bed
breathe.
more importantly, i am learning not to call the bed empty when i'm already in it.

breathe.
it seems i have reached the age when my grade school self thought i'd be an adult with everything figured out. she is yet another person i have disappointed.
breathe.
still, i am slowly realizing that no one else really knows what they're doing either. and that's okay.