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7:47 pm

He had this book, his favorite book

Wrinkled with use so that’s it pretty burgundy and gold color scheme was faded

To a crease lined reddish brown and tan

 

I've forgotten the title, like I've forgotten so many things about him

Cast off memories like clothes

Because they stopped fitting around the hole in my chest

But I remember the look of this book

So well loved, over the many years he’d kept it

 

He was like that, Mr. Commitment

Ready to hold out for the long-term

Ready for a wife and a house and 2.5 kids with a white picket fence and family dog

I just wanted to run away from the horror show I’d always known

Because I’d been raised where love meant shouting, and heartbreak

 

Love meant my sister crawling into my bed at 3 am

After yet another fight over the phone

And eating only an apple for the next three days

Because to her dropping a dress size would make love her right

 

Love was tear stains on my pillow and broken bowls on the ground

As my mom and dad tore into one another for all that had gone wrong

Angry yelling echoing through the board game

That none of my siblings or I really cared to play anymore

 

But he didn't hold angry yelling, only overly excited shouts

He held me like the book, like he’d want me forever

But the book, as amazing as he’d claimed it to be

Had one page unmarked by the wear of his love

The last page sat unread

He said it was too good a book to ever finish

And this way he could read it again and again

Without any end

 

But he held me like he held the book

Knowing so much of me too well, from so many readings

Caring for every detail, from my obsession with elephants

To the exact time we first crossed the threshold of friendship, into something more

7:47 pm he showed up at my door at our first anniversary

I’d though he’d forgotten, he’d just wanted to get it right down to the last minute

 

He knew each of my chapters

Memorized paragraphs of me

To turn over and over it his heart, reading and rereading

Yet leaving one page unturned

 

I couldn't be an incomplete story

I needed my resolution

 

It’s 7:47 pm and I've never been more alone

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Written by
annabel-lee
American
Published
Dec 19, 2013
Lines·Words
42·402
Permission

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