my attachment to you scares me-
it always has.
i thought maybe we could be soulmates,
that that was why i bawled like a baby when you left,
or why i still look for your car in the parking lot
even though i know it will never be there.
but today,
i realized my idealism  got the better of me again-
i simultaneously over and underestimated your purpose in my life.
you are not here to tell me i’m pretty
or to hold my hand.
you are here to be you.  
you.
the person who spoke sense into me when i refused to listen,
knowing i already knew the answer to the questions i mulled over obsessively,
who was not there to teach me something
but to help me realize i am smart enough
capable enough
logical enough
to figure things out on my own.
not a soulmate-
romantic, platonic, or other.
we are not kindred spirits
we are good friends
and, yes, i am sorry to admit that i have indeed placed you on a pedestal
but it’s a different kind of pedestal:
one that i use to remind myself
of my own ability
to hold up a mirror-
to my own face,
and to the face of others,
to show them that they too are
smart enough
capable enough
logical enough
to figure things out on their own.

here i am
thinking about a boy who wanted to live in virginia.

here i am
wondering what i did wrong,
and how i managed to misunderstand
every little thing.

here i am
regretting wasting over a year
convincing myself that we could be perfect
and beating myself up when we didn’t live up to that expectation.

every day, without fail
for two years-
well, one and two thirds-
we’d pass each other in the hallway
and either smile,
or you’d say something-
something friendly, or weird, or obnoxious.

even when we were angry with each other,
we’d speak silently
with avoided eye contact
and brisk walks.

now, as i learn that we’ll never have a moment like that again,
the last one is burned into my mind.
you loudly joked
about me being sick,
when i passed you in the history hallway
like i did every single day this year.

i think i’m gonna miss those moments
more than i will ever admit to you.

you became a memory
in the same way you became a moment-
slow at first
with car rides
and football games.
with missed calls
and changed plans.
and then in a rush
of butterflies and smiles
of laughter and deep conversations-
of days without speaking
and nights spent thinking of someone else.

the other day i told you
that i love the smell of fresh laundry
warm to the touch,
it smells like home.
i said i loved gilmore girls
because watching it made me feel at home.
i never realized how desperately i cling
to the comforting feeling of being home.
my face fills with the same familiar warmth
when i sit too close to you on the bus
or lean on you at the game.
you feel like home
i never want to lose that feeling.

it’s almost silly
how perfect this is.
when i’m too sensitive
you’re logical and empathetic.
when i plan a perfect future
you tell me that it might not happen that way
and that that’s okay.
you want to be a leader
with intelligent advisors helping you along the way;
i would much rather help someone achieve great things than have the weight of the world on my shoulders.
when i’m distracted
you pull my focus back in.
when i’m discouraged
you tell me how it will all work out.
when i’m sad
you beg for me to confide in you.
when you convince yourself that you’re right
i offer a different perspective.
i haven’t seen home alone
and you haven’t seen mamma mia.
you’re a jfk
and i’m a jackie.

you tell me not to plan my future
that i shouldn’t stress myself out over something i can’t control.
you tell me to make my own decisions
instead of trying to please everyone.
you provide much needed reality checks
when my dreams become too wild
or my fears too large.
i am so thankful you’re in my life.

i hope you never give it back-
it’s childish, i know.
but i want to see you
wear my hair tie on your wrist.
i want people to ask you
whose it is
and i want you to tell them.
i want it to be your favorite accidental gift
that you’ve ever received.
so no, you don’t have to give it back.

i feel so helpless
like i’m drowning in a lake
trying to call out for help
but making no sound.
i’m waiting for you to save me
instead of learning how to swim.

i miss the way i used to write:
how the words sprung from my fingertips
and painted beautiful images,
inspired emotions,
personified feelings.

i’m so used
to instant attraction
that i overlooked you
for years.
now i look back
and can’t believe i missed all the signs

i think i might have finally gotten it right.
my breathing is steady,
my smile is wide,
and my worries dissipate
more and more
day by day.

thank you for teaching me
about boundaries
and respect
and self-control.
thank you for showing me
friendship
when you could have shown me
disdain.
thank you for accepting apologies
that were two years too late
and continuing to inspire me
to reach for something more.

something about you
always reminds me
of who i could have become.
when a child whispers her wishes into the stars
they become you.

as i look out my window
and see the blue ridge mountains
i am reminded
of a boy
who wanted to live in virginia.

as my parents drive on this curvy interstate,
its him yelling at the cars and eighteen-wheelers,
and it’s me reading in the passenger seat.

as we near the city ,
it’s us taking the metro each day
to jobs in important places.
and taking it back home each night
to our home in virginia
with jam, and coffee, and china cabinets.

i was making a bracelet today,
one of the woven types
that the “cool girls” in elementary school would come back from the beach with strands of their hair wrapped in.
you said you would wear one on your wrist
and asked me to show you how to make one.
when i finished,
dissatisfied with the crookedness of the swirling threads,
and asked if you would want it,
you smiled that smile
and let me tie it around your wrist.
don’t say i never gave you anything.

for the first time in a month
you almost met my eyes in the hallway.
you almost smiled
i saw it when you turned away.
it’s okay,
i almost smiled too.

there are moments in life
when the only thought that occurs in your brain,
over and over like a scratched record,
is “i could be in love with someone like you”

i wish i could live forever in those moments
and my entire life would be filled with wonder.
id wake up to the sound of my own heartbeat
and fall asleep with my lips curled in a smile.

four years ago you stood on that stage with a microphone
and the words flowed from your mouth in such a way
that made giggles flow from mine.
she and i held hands,
and vowed to each other
an unspoken allegiance to you
and that voice.

tonight you stood on the same stage
with a microphone;
the words were different,
but they flowed the same.
this time, she stood behind you, smiling
and i sat in the audience
like i had four years ago,
not giggling anymore
but still allegiant.

i could fall for my best friend.
our blushing cheeks and smiles
could be mistaken for something more
than the response to a joke
and i could fall for him.

i could flirt with him
and he could take me seriously
instead of laughing it off
as he does with everyone else.
we could talk
and i could flirt.

i could smile
and laugh
and flirt
and fall.
why not?

The Notre Dame is burning,
and no one understands why I’m upset.
No, I’ve never seen it in person,
never been inside to admire its beauty,
but it’s been in me.
For years,
Paris has been this image of perfection,
of dreams coming true,
of life being fulfilled,
and now,
the Notre Dame is burning,
and I can’t stop crying
over a place I’ll never go.

a list of reasons why i can’t stand you

1: you treat me like a child
2: you act like i’m worthless since i’m not in a relationship
3: you pressure me
4: you undermine my problems
5: you use me
6: you make me feel worthless and powerful at the same time
7: you’re an emotional cheater
8: i don’t know how to forget you
9: i think i’ll always want you
10: you’ll never be clear about how you feel/felt  about me.

i used to be filled
with swarms of tickling butterflies-
a nervous, nauseous feeling that accompanied me everywhere i went,
along with the intense feeling that one of you might be somewhere up ahead.
now all i feel
is the autonomous cycle of my breath
and my pulse,
no longer too fast.

i haven’t been this honest
since the first month i knew you-
that sacred april
when the cherry blossoms bloomed for Easter
and then left as soon as they arrived,
and the wasps buzzed around my porch,
not daring to sting me.
the sun came out from its hiding place,  
and i wore white shoes.
oh, how i loved that spring.

what makes you so special;
that i sit and write poems for you every night?
what makes you so perfect;
that no one bothers to ask you what’s wrong?
what makes you so beautiful;
that i loved you before i knew you, and as i knew you, and after i knew you?

it’s crazy to think
that after all this time
we’ve lost that “another life” connection.
you don’t cry to me anymore
and i don’t try to fix you.
you aren’t the person i go to when i’m sad anymore,
because you don’t listen and give the best advice anymore.
we’re just two people
who used to have something
that i thought was so special.
i’m just the girl you go to for instant gratification
and you’re just the boy i can’t let go of.

in ten days it will have been a year
since the day you first spoke to me.
a year since you picked out the nail color that i wore for the first three weeks of my fifteenth year on this earth.
a year after we laughed at the boy who begged for me at every opportunity.
and a year after i ruined my life.

Why do you have this power over me?
I don’t love you
but you could ask for the world and I would get it for you.
Why do I let you use me?
I’m your *****-
you pay me in cheap conversations
and reassurance that I’ll find love one day.
I don’t want to do this
but yet here I go again,
back into our routine
just like you said.

people that actually listen to what you say are really important.
the ones who remember the little things,
like your favorite Bible verse
or the fact that you write poetry every night.
they'll never forget your birthday,
or where you want to travel one day.
they hear you.
they know you.

i’m falling for the little things about you
like the freckle on your right ear
or the way you fiddle with the emergency brake when there’s nothing to talk about.
i like the way you turn completely sideways in your seat to tell a story,
daring me to maintain eye contact from the passenger side.
i like the hat with your dad’s company’s name on it
and your patagonia pullover that you always wear.
i like that you bring a cup of coffee to school everyday
but make fun of me for drinking tea out of fancy teacups;
it seems as if i could like every little thing about you...

i feel the most like myself
when i’m with you.
i could tell you anything
and you’d just lean your head on the steering wheel and laugh.
i want someone like you for the rest of my life:
someone that says funny things because i look like i need to laugh,
someone that listens to me ramble for hours on end and seems genuinely interested,
someone that waits for me on the sidewalk.

i think someone like you could be my forever.

you said you’d like to live in virginia.
oh, how i could see us
among the old buildings and tulip trees,
driving down to savannah, georgia for spring break
to see the spanish moss
and the gorgeous houses that you told me looked like they were all squished together,
or up to boone, north carolina,
where i swear it’s fifty degrees year-round

wherever i end up
i hope you’re there too.

I’m starting to finally realize
that you aren’t at all right for me.
It’s taken me almost an entire year
and a lot of sleepless nights
of crying and talking and staring at the ceiling,
and I don’t know if I’ll ever completely be able to stop wanting you in my life,
but it’s worth a shot.
Maybe I’ll let you go
instead of living a life that revolves around
a boy who decides day by day if i’m worth his time.

you asked me who these poems were about
and i didn’t have the heart to tell you
that almost every word
i’ve ever written
has been for you.
all for you.

I was finally starting to rid myself of you
and your persuasion,
your crooked smile
and nice guy demeanor
that left me to your will,
but then you came along and asked a simple question
one that showed you might just be thinking about me.
so here I am writing poetry about you instead of deleting your number.

I get in this habit
of meeting someone
and free falling off a cliff
while they watch.

It’s destructive
because as I get to know them,
I create an image in my head
of someone perfect that things would work out with.

Months pass and relationships fade
but feelings don’t.
I always bring myself back into a situation that will never be real.

Eventually, I decide that I have moved on,
and then the next person comes along.
He feels like something new,
but like someone I’ve known my entire life.
I always marvel at this amazing concept,
of people being living contradictions,
but every person I fall for seems to be that way:
in my head he’s perfect;
in real life he’s far from it.

you can tell a lot about a guy by what kind of music he turns on when you’re in the car.

there was the guy whose bass blew out my eardrums
who texted the entire way there.

there was the sweet guy who cued up his rap playlist but turned it down a couple notches so he could hear what i had to say.

but my favorite to ride with was the guy who turned the random radio station down and talked to me for thirty minutes about life and the future.
i still don’t know what song was playing.