Dearest you,
Sorry, but we’re going to be late! Again, // I can almost taste spring, these days, late January and I’m chilly but / nothing hurts, too badly. Don’t worry, it was just a sprained ankle. // I take no responsibility for Google Maps. They lied when they said it would be a twenty-minute drive, / we’re graduating in five months. I watched Lady Bird and thought of you, your old house downtown with the yellowing, detailed wallpaper and maple leaves spanning from our wrists to calloused fingers. /
In all honesty, it’s my fault because I read an Alternate Universe: Everyone Lives fanfiction and thought of you, or tried not to, it’s disingenuous to say I want domesticity when I’m already planning what to leave behind at home and you’re on that list of things / I didn’t expect to happen! First injury on our last skating night, who could believe it? Thank you for giving me a piggy-back ride though, felt like we were kids again. / I read a Richard Siken poem and didn’t think of you, // I can’t fit into a suitcase. Remember last winter, I kept quoting that one line, “Sometimes you get so close to someone you end up on the other side of them”, and I wanted you to understand it was about you, but I don’t know if you did. I wanted to write a poem not about you, I said it wouldn’t be about you, I’m asking God to, next winter, let me write a poem that’s not about you // for the first time. Anyway, I can’t // forgive you. No matter what. // wait to see you!
It was good being with everyone, // hard to think it’ll be difficult in a few months. Have you started packing up boxes yet? I can’t fathom / a bedroom without me in it, your bed without my hair strands, your sweatshirt without you // again. I’m glad that for this year we’re friends / lovers / with each other in all the ways that matter. Let’s stay in contact.
Love, yours.
Editors: Uzayer M., Blenda Y.
Image Source: Andrew Neel, Unsplash