I looked at my phone and thought of reaching out to you.

You probably looked at your phone tonight and I was miles from your mind.

I thought about calling.

You probably wouldn’t pick up.

I thought of letting the anxiety building up like pressure in my head, the words flying out like squeezing a water bottle, and all the water comes shooting out, leaving you soaked. “How do you forget your first love?”

You would probably respond with an icy reply like “I don’t” and hang up, so cold it snows, right where you’re standing, and it would probably the most beautiful, lovely snow. Salty tears freeze to your face. My essence is still frozen to  the ice around your aura, like the initials of a rebellious teen scrawled on a bathroom stall.

I thought about what I would say if you stayed. I wouldn’t care if you told me you did too, or if you if you lashed me once more with your frostbite tongue. I wouldn’t care because I am the songs you showed me and the songs I showed you, our old friend’s house where we would slip off together, rice cakes and *****, the razor on your counter, my ribcage, the waterfall and the river, Giant mountain, all the dresses I wore, the curtain at my friends bat mitzvah, your poems, your last year at that school, I am your first love.

I would tell you that you are my poems, lichen moss, my bathroom scale, your favorite songs, the songs I listened to all of December, the black turtle neck, my freezing fingers, my old perfume, the blonde haired boy I grew up with, my *******, your songs I still reread, that superhero that bored we watched, our old texts, Godiva chocolate, the liquor in my basement, my stories, my middle and index fingers inside my throat, the freezing cold behind our old friend’s shed, my last year at that school, you are my first love.

You would probably tell me that we were a fiery disaster, that you could not withstand my blazing heat. But you must remember that I was not the one to come back the first time. Your ice began to thaw and melt, even as I started to develop a dusting of snow on my color-drained skin. You felt my extreme heat as I felt your extreme cold. We both became so dependent the feelings that we could ignore all the side effects. Until all we became was side effects.

I would tell you that I did not want to renew our love, I do not want to freeze over, and I refuse to ignite you once more. I would just ask you again, “How do you forget your first love?”.

And you would probably tell me, you’re still trying to figure it out.