Your car was parked outside your parents' house.

I just happened to notice.
I just happened to be driving
to my parents' house
and thinking it was funny you still had that same car.

We would drive without a destination
we would put the seats back.

where I wrote that note reminding myself,
"remember, please, remember this feeling."

We would play that same song.

I thought about calling but
we're grown now and
have our own dogs.
our own lawns.


I hate to think that none of it was worth it but
here we are
in the same town, first time in 10 years and
I still remember the song but I

can't remember your smile.

There's something to be said about
Seeing your face for the first time in years and knowing

That smile

It's still for me.

I wasn't even a star
I wasn't
even a boat
I wasn't
even
a fish
in your ocean

I was a single-celled
hyperthermophile
in one of your many, many trenches.

I don’t know if you would love me more or love me less now

I am stronger
I am not afraid
of spiders anymore.

I run to keep from crying, but
in the confines of my car
at night, driving,
I still listen to the Postal Service and
do.

I still keep a box full of
notes you wrote
I’m just not sure where it is-
it’s no longer a need but
a comfort.

We existed.
It was good.
    For a while.

We ended.
And it broke me
   For a long time.

I don’t know if you would love me more or love me less now.

Two out of three times I speak my mind.
I make
my own phone calls. I
can sometimes talk to strangers.

I wear the occasional dress now.
I don’t hide my scars.
I still can’t drive stick shift.
I still say I’m spontaneous but rarely venture outside without meticulously laid plans.

I still worry all the time about my future
and how you won’t be in it.
Once, that ruined me but now

It’s more like the kind of sadness that sits
right behind your eyes when you think about a place
you used to love but haven’t visited in years.

I don’t know if you would love me more or love me less now
Maybe, not less,
just
from further and further away.

I watch you drive and ask
if anyone can love.

The way I love you
When you
sing a song you swear
Was written for me.

You touch my thigh and I have been drinking but
Still
This might be.

I can’t remember if I built walls to
Keep from touching or
Keep from being touched.
Either way I don’t feel much now.

And so I use the mirror to remind myself,
(A morning ritual)
I am more than just the parts he held, once.

My eyes were always blue to get lost in.

I am more than just a girl,
Who was


Maybe


Loved once.

But I still feel shallower for the days spent being
Someone’s idea of me and not
Myself.

There are still songs I won't listen to.

10 years later;
When I look in the mirror,
Or at the scars,
Or I flinch at the touch of a stranger

When I want desperately to hate you
and I can’t.

I am so sorry but it still matters.