Nov 2015
January
You make puns.
I make puns back.
We laugh.
February
I learn your name.
You walk me to class.
March
We keep making puns.
I tell you I don't go by the name I was introduced as.
You nod.
April
You punch me in the arm, harder than intended.
It's a funny thing to feel safe about.
May
You get my number.
We send each other jokes sometimes.
We talk about queer issues on occasion.
June
We beat each other up, laughing.
My ribs are bruised for a week and a half.
Our self-destructive tendencies seem to fall asleep for longer.
July
I am away.
I text you every day, and I don't remember when it started.
We agree that we are vaguely incompatible.
August
We begin school, and I see you every day.
I'm happier.
You look happier, too.
September
I ask your pronouns.
You touch me without hurting me for the first time.
October
Sometimes we fall asleep holding each other.
I'll never be in love with you.
November
Commitment has never felt like freedom before.
December*
You taste like some kind of holy water, a first sip of communion;
And I will still never be in love.
You make puns.
I make puns back.
We laugh.
February
I learn your name.
You walk me to class.
March
We keep making puns.
I tell you I don't go by the name I was introduced as.
You nod.
April
You punch me in the arm, harder than intended.
It's a funny thing to feel safe about.
May
You get my number.
We send each other jokes sometimes.
We talk about queer issues on occasion.
June
We beat each other up, laughing.
My ribs are bruised for a week and a half.
Our self-destructive tendencies seem to fall asleep for longer.
July
I am away.
I text you every day, and I don't remember when it started.
We agree that we are vaguely incompatible.
August
We begin school, and I see you every day.
I'm happier.
You look happier, too.
September
I ask your pronouns.
You touch me without hurting me for the first time.
October
Sometimes we fall asleep holding each other.
I'll never be in love with you.
November
Commitment has never felt like freedom before.
December*
You taste like some kind of holy water, a first sip of communion;
And I will still never be in love.
