here’s a truth: i think your love
has spoiled me rotten.
i’ve taken to driving around at night
and visiting all the places we used to go
as if they’re crime scenes;
paying my respects
as if to the dead.
i’m searching for proof, somewhere,
that you loved me,
as if places could hold memories,
as if miles flying under my tires
could make you love me again.

i am seeing another boy
and you know this.
he is rough where you were gentle,
he is selfish when you were caring.
i am trying to force him
into the place you left behind,
jamming together puzzle pieces that don’t fit;
i wish i could say i don’t know why i’m wasting my time
but the truth is, being wanted by someone,
anyone,
is the next best thing
to being wanted by you.

here’s another truth:
so far, loving you has been the greatest thing i have ever done,
the greatest thing i have achieved,
the purest, most noble part of me.

read it as my eulogy: i did nothing great, except for loving you.
that’s what i want to be remembered for.

kissing in the driveway,
grabbing his winter jacket in your fist,
his hand inside your thigh
fake-familiar
it’s not as good as you want it to be
and it isn’t with the boy you want it to be
but it’ll do, it’ll work, it’ll make you feel
good and numb
and wanted,
which is all you need;
the magic recipe of forgetting

long, slow, standing-in-the-middle-of-the-street kisses

walk-me-outside, knew-this-was-coming, i-was-expecting-you kisses

1:30-in-the-morning kisses: soft, sleepy, simple

sparkling, rushed all-of-a-sudden kisses

you-still-taste-like-champagne kisses

brand-new-beginning kisses, kisses that turn the clock,

cross from the old year to the new.

“one more,” you kept saying, “one more, one more, one more."

i never told you this, but:
i didn’t want to say “yes” when you asked me on our first date.
i was thinking of someone in buffalo
who was (at the same time) making playlists with my name in the title
and sending me poems in the mail.
you were just on my periphery,
something of a backup –
until you weren’t,
until you were
everything.

all summer, we were just kids kissing on the beach
just sweaty palms, just chasing trains --
until suddenly it became
running down the hallway of the hospital
and sneaking into the radiology ward,
losing my mind in the waiting room
and holding your hand, twisted up in tubes.
i’ll never forget the way you looked at me that week
and i’ll always remember
making out in the x-ray room,
the nurses on the other side of the door
and wondering if the man behind the divider could hear you
when you told me you loved me for the first time

the truth is:
it’s not fair that you stopped wanting me
and started wanting her,
just because she was convenient
and i was far away

maybe one day i’ll stop being angry,
maybe it’ll stop feeling like someone pulled all my bones from the sockets,
maybe one day i’ll stop missing you so much
and maybe, someday, my body will stop feeling
like a burial ground

but in this moment,
like a stupid animal,
my heart is still waiting
for you to come home.

i don’t know how to tell it you aren’t coming.

i’m still dreaming about the way you looked at me in the hospital room.

the truth is,

i don’t how to live in a world where you want her

instead of me.

i keep saying big, bold things

like, I NEVER WANT TO SEE HIM AGAIN

or I HOPE SHE STOMPS ALL OVER HIS HEART

but we both know i don’t really want that –

what i want is the alternate timeline

when you did not leave me,

when i didn’t sob loudly on a train full of strangers

because you told me it was

really over this time.

what i want is

someplace to put all of my love for you

that isn’t within my own

body.

listen –
i don’t know what the right answer is.
we both know i’m not any good at this,
neither of us are,
and yet we’re here
still trying.

if i were to say that i took it all back –
if i threw myself at your feet and said listen, you,
i love every grey hair on your head
and i love every stupid word that comes out of that mouth of yours
that i spend too much time wanting to kiss,
i don’t know how i could stop myself from ******* it up again
but maybe i could try, again, to be good to you,
if you’d let me.

the truth is
being with you today felt like a homecoming.
the truth is,
i don’t know how we will make this work.
the truth is
i’m scared that I will hurt you again,
i’m scared i won’t know how to stop myself from doing wrong by you,
and yet here i am, turning up my hands like a prayer, laying flowers at your feet and tracing the wings on your ankles,
hoping that somehow
we can do this, that the distance won’t matter
and i’ll stop biting my tongue whenever i need to speak.

we traded hats before we said goodbye
and i’m still wearing yours.
tonight i’ll sleep in your sweatshirt
and hope that someone, someday, will love you right,
and that maybe it will be me.

here i am, clutching tight to your memory with my fists. it’s all i have left to hold without your hands.

children will tell about our love around a campfire like a ghost story because that’s what we’ve become –
the difference is, i want to be haunted by you.
please: switch the lights on and off, slam the doors,
i’ll leave lots of pots and pans on the counter for you to knock around the house.
i won’t fix the creak in the door just so i can hear you come and go.

one of the reasons you left in the first place was so i wouldn’t sit around and wait for you,
yet here i am: sitting around, waiting for you.
i don’t want to do anything else, i don’t think you understand.
i haven’t given up. i’m pulling out all the stops, i’m coming out of the gate with my fists swinging,
i am willing to fight for our love in a way you never were.

i am forcing myself to swallow every single i miss you
i don’t want to admit that losing you feels like losing a limb
i don’t want to admit that i’m still thinking about that afternoon in the car when i felt safe for the first time.
chin up, baby, and be patient,
look at the sky, look at your hands. look at the sky again.
i wish i could know if it means something.