One.
The sight of you lying next to me, lean and muscled and gilded only in sunlight, your half-lidded eyes and well-sated smile, is a sight I may never forget. I keep praying that I will.
Two.
I was happy with you. Like, really, really happy, the kind you read about, the kind they show on the big screen on Saturday nights while we were making out in my car. Those fifteen months were the happiest I have almost ever been.And lately, you know, I'm beginning to realize something. I;m beginning to realize that it might have had little to do with you.
Three.
I hate you. I hate that I can't stop thinking about you. Or calling you. Or walking ten minutes out of my way just to casually pass you by. I hate how almost every song on the radio reminds me of you. I hate that there are places I love, that I can't go anymore without thinking of you. I hate that I can't call you up to go get dinner after work, or kettle corn and fruit teas under the bridge, or coffee and bagels on Sunday morning. I hate that all of our phone calls lately involve guilt or sex, and more and more often it's both. I hate that my last three dates have been ruined by thoughts of you. I hate that every guy I meet has to live up to the standard of you. I hate that I can't even properly hate you.
Four.
Ironic how the most spine you showed in over a year was when you broke up with me. I'm still not done laughing about that over cosmos with my girlfriends.
Five.
There was One who came before you, who took more than I wanted to give. I have often told myself that, should I ever meet him in the dark, I will not be the weak one again. And since then, I have been outwardly strong. You are the only one who looked inside, and saw that I was not. You showed me how to defend myself, to protect what little I had left. You made me really believe that I could be beautiful, even on days when my make-up was running and my shirt was too big and my pants didn't fit right. Even on days when love was the last thing I wanted, you would hold me, and sway me, and tell me I was beautiful, and kiss me like mine was the only mouth you have ever wanted to kiss. I could never thank you enough for that, but I think if I start now, and remember every day that I am something terrible and beautiful and strong--I think that might begin to repay you. Thank you.
Five.
I will never share your affinity for rooftops, but I am constantly amused by it. I might not let you haul me up there with you, but on the phone late at night, when you're up there, I can hear that particular peace in your voice, and that makes me smile.
Six.
Watching you work with your hands reminds me of what it might have been like to watch God forming the earth. Seeing you take something that I would have overlooked on the ground, and make it something intricate and articulate and just so beautiful, is closer to worship than I have come on so many Sunday mornings. I hope you never lose that sense of wonder, and that those stars in your eyes never burn out. Remember that you, too, are beautiful.
Seven.
Baby, it's not cold outside anymore, even though it's the middle of January. Stop singing my lines for me, and pick a less skeezy song to sing at Christmastime.
Eight.
You crawl into my bed around 4am every night and wake me up. I feel the warmth of your chest, the strength of your arms, the slight scratch of your chin on my ear. I feel you breathing in the scent of my hair, and every line of each of your fingertips. I smell your breath pouring over me, feel your legs tucked over mine. I can still hear your heart, sleeping, murmur "I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you."
Nine.
"Can I bring you chocolate?" And I'm wondering, what the hell kind of question is that? Of course you can. Since when would I turn down free chocolate?
And then I realize that you're asking to come see me again. And I have to refuse.
And dammit, now I want chocolate.
Ten.
I loved you. When we were dating, I didn't always know how to deal with that.
I still love you. Now that we're 'just friends,' I don't know how to deal with it any better.
The sight of you lying next to me, lean and muscled and gilded only in sunlight, your half-lidded eyes and well-sated smile, is a sight I may never forget. I keep praying that I will.
Two.
I was happy with you. Like, really, really happy, the kind you read about, the kind they show on the big screen on Saturday nights while we were making out in my car. Those fifteen months were the happiest I have almost ever been.And lately, you know, I'm beginning to realize something. I;m beginning to realize that it might have had little to do with you.
Three.
I hate you. I hate that I can't stop thinking about you. Or calling you. Or walking ten minutes out of my way just to casually pass you by. I hate how almost every song on the radio reminds me of you. I hate that there are places I love, that I can't go anymore without thinking of you. I hate that I can't call you up to go get dinner after work, or kettle corn and fruit teas under the bridge, or coffee and bagels on Sunday morning. I hate that all of our phone calls lately involve guilt or sex, and more and more often it's both. I hate that my last three dates have been ruined by thoughts of you. I hate that every guy I meet has to live up to the standard of you. I hate that I can't even properly hate you.
Four.
Ironic how the most spine you showed in over a year was when you broke up with me. I'm still not done laughing about that over cosmos with my girlfriends.
Five.
There was One who came before you, who took more than I wanted to give. I have often told myself that, should I ever meet him in the dark, I will not be the weak one again. And since then, I have been outwardly strong. You are the only one who looked inside, and saw that I was not. You showed me how to defend myself, to protect what little I had left. You made me really believe that I could be beautiful, even on days when my make-up was running and my shirt was too big and my pants didn't fit right. Even on days when love was the last thing I wanted, you would hold me, and sway me, and tell me I was beautiful, and kiss me like mine was the only mouth you have ever wanted to kiss. I could never thank you enough for that, but I think if I start now, and remember every day that I am something terrible and beautiful and strong--I think that might begin to repay you. Thank you.
Five.
I will never share your affinity for rooftops, but I am constantly amused by it. I might not let you haul me up there with you, but on the phone late at night, when you're up there, I can hear that particular peace in your voice, and that makes me smile.
Six.
Watching you work with your hands reminds me of what it might have been like to watch God forming the earth. Seeing you take something that I would have overlooked on the ground, and make it something intricate and articulate and just so beautiful, is closer to worship than I have come on so many Sunday mornings. I hope you never lose that sense of wonder, and that those stars in your eyes never burn out. Remember that you, too, are beautiful.
Seven.
Baby, it's not cold outside anymore, even though it's the middle of January. Stop singing my lines for me, and pick a less skeezy song to sing at Christmastime.
Eight.
You crawl into my bed around 4am every night and wake me up. I feel the warmth of your chest, the strength of your arms, the slight scratch of your chin on my ear. I feel you breathing in the scent of my hair, and every line of each of your fingertips. I smell your breath pouring over me, feel your legs tucked over mine. I can still hear your heart, sleeping, murmur "I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you."
Nine.
"Can I bring you chocolate?" And I'm wondering, what the hell kind of question is that? Of course you can. Since when would I turn down free chocolate?
And then I realize that you're asking to come see me again. And I have to refuse.
And dammit, now I want chocolate.
Ten.
I loved you. When we were dating, I didn't always know how to deal with that.
I still love you. Now that we're 'just friends,' I don't know how to deal with it any better.
No comments:
Post a Comment