sorry for calling you my boyfriend, i'm just tired of calling you my ex, the ex, the one that broke my heart, the one that got away. so for now, for today, dear boyfriend,
i've been sorting through our memories and i found the very first necklace you gave to me. i haven't worn it yet, but it still shines. i thought you'd be interested to know that the shirt you gave me still faintly smells of you (or maybe that's in my head). i'm feeling really nauseous today and i think its because i read the letters you wrote to me and your handwriting is strange and so familiar. how your letters capitalize mid-sentence, i never quite understood. everytime i see it, i think of how your mother taught you her whole life and imagine you sitting with her and learning to read. did your mother teach you to love? mine certainly didn't. my father taught me to run, though. he taught me to run and run and run and never to look back. i'm still struggling with the second part. he taught me to never stop moving because your past is out to get you. i've been running ever since. my feet hurt and i wish you were here to hold me. but i guess love needs to take a breath, love needs a second, love needs you to freeze for a moment in time. but i never stopped running. i never stop. have you been stopping? freezing in your tracks when the memories hit you like a brick? does your heart clench in desire the way mine does? sometimes it feels like i'm running with my eyes closed and i've gotten my hair caught in spider webs. ugh, i've always hated spiders. i'm not afraid of them, but i don't enjoy their presence. i always liked the idea of having you **** them for me but honestly i think you were more freaked out by them than i was. which is kinda cute in and of itself. you were different, i mean, are different. i wonder how much has changed. i wonder how little has changed. i wonder if you're still waiting for the day the sun sets in the east. i wonder if you're still waiting for me.
your (ex?) girlfriend
(and forever soulmate).