standing in my kitchen at 12:11 in the morning eating frost bitten ice cream in my neon pink underwear staring at the coffee stains that plague my cream white counters and thinking about christmas and how fast it passed this year
no, really i’m thinking about you and how if you were still mine, we’d be on the phone right now or even better, i wouldn’t be staring at the coffee stains on my counter, because i’d be curled up in your arms, listening to your breathing and thinking about all the reasons i love you so much
or we’d be out driving around, eating chicfila or tacos from that place we loved you’d be telling me about a movie you just watched and your hand would probably be on my thigh you’d make fun of the way i hold the steering wheel, and i’d tell you that you can talk when you finally learn to drive
and we’d stop somewhere and i’d kiss you on the cheek but i can’t imagine a time when things weren’t bad, so in this scenario i’d also be thinking about all of my insecurities but you would see it on my face and you’d say “hey, i love you, and there’s no ‘but’s or ‘anyway’s”
and i’d probably work less so i’d have more time to spend with you i’d deal with the smaller paychecks by loving you instead but you’d probably work with me too, and i’d give you rides to and from and i’d love that we shared something like that together because of the places from where we both grew up
you always told me you loved shopping together because it made us feel so real and like we had our own house, with a big bed and a dog and a garage full of cars, and a garden to grow from
but the reality hit too soon we couldn’t handle the stress of it all and i guess we tried to work it out, but on cue i realized nothing is really ‘meant to be’
so here i am now at 12:23 am eating frost bitten orange sherbet and crying thinking of all the things that i just said wishing you were the one i was saying them to.