I am still standing here on the side of the road,
bags in hand.
Like you opened the door and shoved me out,
said you’d come back later.
The sun is setting though,
and it’s getting cold.
I’m beginning to think you aren’t
coming back.

Walking around this house I see his
things mixed in with mine
and the note I wrote him on his birthday
still hangs on the fridge.
“I love you.”
New pictures on my phone of memories
we make every day.
Just one year ago I never would’ve believed
he would be here with me.
By that time I had come to terms with
thinking he would always be a sweet and sour
taste of the past.
But now we laugh together on the couch
and make dinner with beers.
We make plans for the future and look forward to time together.
Anywhere is home with him
but I love this home we’ve made together
in the country with beautiful sunsets and evening walks.
Sometimes I still can’t believe I have my best friend back.

My mom pulled up in her green car
and brought me to my childhood bedroom. Exhaustion and disappointment
on her face as she
followed me up the stairs.
I barely slept but woke up to realize
what a huge mistake I made.
And then he came back and I still don’t know why.
I decided not to ask.
But a part of me wishes he hadn’t.
It’s too hard to look at him, too hard to smile, too hard to even continue building together when there’s too much rubble.
Everything is scorched and broken it’s impossible to know where to start.
I lost myself completely, the girl he loves died.
I feel like I’m in a body that isn’t mine.
Everyone chatting and being kind to me although I don’t deserve it.
I keep day dreaming of disappearing,
leaving in the night and driving until my car can’t go any farther.
I don’t want to show my face, it’s an embarrassment and a shame.
Everyone saying you can’t drink
or you’ll go off the handle again
being watched like a hawk.
I can’t take it.

The way he acts towards me makes me believe
I don’t deserve happiness.
I don’t deserve to ever feel happy again
because I blacked out drunk and tried to start a fight which led to another fight.
I know I ****** up.
I feel it constantly.
But you can’t hang this like a dark cloud following me everywhere forever.

You make me sick.
The way you treat me like trash
unless you want money or *****
or for me to stroke your ego.
You are not the prize, you have nothing to offer me.
I am the gold at the end of the rainbow,
I am the reason the sun shines.
I have friends everywhere and people who give a **** about me.
What about you?
Who other than me even wants to see your face.
You so easily forget who’s there for you.
*******

Last night I lay in bed unable
to meet sleep because he wasn’t just a room away.
So I tried to imagine what freedom feels like.
Freedom from longing, anxiety, fear and sadness.
I had an image of riding in the passenger seat
of my sister’s old beat up car
in the middle of spring in the morning as the sun is starting to rise.
The air is warm and sweet,
the wind feels like a nice boy running his fingers through your hair.
School is almost out, you’re about to start a fun day of who knows what with your hooligan friends.
An old song plays on the radio,
a Marlboro red between your fingers,
and a Monster energy drink in the cup holder.

No job, no homework, no heartbreak.
It’s a feeling I’ll probably never have again, that true freedom from it all.

When everything really is good.

He makes dinner while I sit at the table
doing homework on my laptop.
He comes over and kisses the top of my head
three times.
I can’t stop a smile from my face.
He makes me coffee while we wait for the food to get done,
and talk about whatever.
It’s these small moments that make it
impossible to not want this to last forever.