I showered last night, wiping away
What you encouraged me to do.
Did you forget? I didn't want to go.
Sweatpants rolled up to my knees,
hair flat, cuffs rolled up to my elbows.

The snow beneath my feet crunched
while I texted you. Each word filled
me with reject, each step wanted to pivot
and escape the man down the hill.
But, you said it would be good for me.

On the contrary, this tore you apart,
my love. I babysat the intoxicated man
that offered me wine, his shrill of a voice
split open my skull, quaked my brain
and stabbed my frontal lobe, unaware.

His height represented my will and want
to walk this distance and meet him:
short, and a disappointing impression.
But I can't get through my mind, why,
why we would think we could want this.

I blame myself, the want for more, drinking
intoxicating flirtation that drives us all,
to jump, to want more, but that thrill
poisons the mind to crave for attention,
immediate love we need to find in ourselves.

I can't tell you the dreams I've had, for fear
you might sprint, at Olympic speed,
onto another life, another man while I
wait, wait for you to return to my arms,
because our future is a proposal.

You, down on one knee, flooding my eyes,
rushing down cheeks as we say "I do!"