we were sixteen when you kissed me.
to be particular
we were sixteen when you held me from behind,
trembling like a chihuahua
when you were staying the night at my house,
our friend asleep on the mattress next to us
when you nudged my cheek with your nose,
breath hot and chilling on my face
when I thought you were trying to kiss me,
but I knew that was impossible
we were sixteen when I called you.
to be particular
we were sixteen when I couldn't sleep all night,
sick with paranoia and doubt
when I called you nearly in tears,
because I thought I had made it all up
when you refused to say anything about it,
other than to not tell anyone else
when I cried for the first time in years,
alone and afraid and hating myself for believing
we were seventeen when you got a girlfriend.
to be particular
we were seventeen when you came out to our friends,
by dropping hints they were too oblivious for
when you stopped talking to us all for weeks,
before you told us that you got a girlfriend
when you couldn't spend friday afternoons with me,
because those were date nights
when I realized that I was just your experiment,
out and too ugly to actually date
we were seventeen when I didn't love you.
to be particular
we were seventeen when I knew that I was hurt,
though not actually heartbroken
when I knew that I hadn't loved you like that,
yet you still broke my trust
when you broke up with your girlfriend,
and you could finally find time for me again
when all you talked about was finding a guy,
but never asked about me
we will be eighteen when I will still be me.
to be particular
we will be eighteen when a few months have passed,
applied to college and nearly free
when I will still be out and ugly and undesirable me,
and maybe you will still be you
when you will rant about getting a date to prom,
and I will listen to it all
when you get a new boyfriend or girlfriend,
and I will come second and still smile for you
we will be nineteen when we're off at college.
to be particular
we will be nineteen when we are hundreds of miles apart,
or maybe in the bunk beds next to each other
when I will still be unlovable and unwanted,
paying an entrance fee at frat parties
when you will find new friends to be with,
who are cooler and more fun
when I won't ever cross your mind,
but I will still think of you
we will be twenty-five when you are happy.
to be particular
we will be twenty-five when you're in a relationship,
happy and fulfilled and excited
when you're an artist or architect or anything else,
and I'm still in school for a PhD
when you have long moved on from us,
not remembering that we were ever sixteen
when I am still the ‘am I gay’ quiz,
because you kissed me for no reason at sixteen
we will be thirty when I will kiss you.
to be particular
we will be thirty when it is your wedding day,
and I was a last minute invitation
when I catch you at the reception after your dances,
to give you a hug and a smile and a kiss on the cheek
when you are starting your family with a husband or wife,
and I have two diplomas and two cats to my name
when I will finally be happy,
but will never forget that we were once sixteen
you will be sixty when you call me.
to be particular
you will be sixty when you remember when you were sixteen,
and you think back on a girl you once knew
when you try my old number but the line is disconnected,
because you remembered it wrong
when you try to stalk me on linkedin with no success,
because you can't write remember my last name
when you find a eulogy from twenty years before,
because I don't think I'll make it that long
we will be long dead when meet each other.
to be particular
we will be long dead when I stumble upon you,
in the afterlife I never believed in
when I look at the sixteen year old I never forgot,
and you stare back at a near stranger
when I introduce myself and you remember me,
weeping for the friend you outgrew
when I tell you you were my best friend,
and I wish you never kissed me
a story about a friend who will one day outgrow me
