I hear you friend, the love in your voice, the concern. But these are my feelings, I can't apologize for it and I can't make the decision you would make. I'm going home with him. Following him into his house, taking a deep breath of Ocean air before I pass the front steps and I'm going to be brave. I don't know if I'm sure about him, I may never be, but I know this is where I'm supposed to go. I hear you, but I'm not wrong about this. Trust me & let me trust me.

One Day

I want to believe you. I want the words 'I'm ready' to be true. You call me your small spoon because I can't sleep without your arms around me. I weigh the outcomes if I give you a second chance. The first thing that surfaces from memory is the spot on my shoulder that you always used to kiss when we collapsed out of breath from making love in the middle of the night. Sometimes I touch this spot and close my eyes to help me remember your smell, your mouth, to help me remember you. You tell me you have changed, that you're done pushing me away, that you finally grieved the death of your mom. You tell me you miss watching me brush my teeth. I laugh, tears pooling in my eyes, and realize I miss you too. I remember telling you to let me in, and you stood there with your arms crossed, face un-telling of any emotion, the words 'one day' making my heart sink. Now it's one day, and I don't know if it's too late for us. I love you. But I don't know if 'one day' is enough. My dad once told me to 'try, try, try, and when the other person quits trying, you try for the both of you, and when you've exhausted all the try you have in you thats when you leave.'

Not ready for one day, but not ready to quit trying. Not ready to leave. I love you too much Leo.

Promises Made In Black & White

I miss watching you brush your teeth, and your elbows, I miss those elbows. I miss my little spoon.

Leo, you never let me watch the fireworks at midnight, you dragged me across the happiest place on earth and while you were holding my hand I was looking behind me to see the colors. You never enjoy the colors.

I see in color now, I promise.

That was months ago, when it was still warm and I was at the edge of finally being happy without you. I remember that conversation and I wish I could go to that time and place and tell that sweet girl to walk away. I wish I could tell her run. But she didn't. & the boy, he never kept his promise. 

Don't be afraid, be happy instead.

Can't I be both?


OK, then be both:)

But , you dont understand. You are what is making me afraid.
You have never understood.

The Relationship That Just Won't Die

I think back to the night you told me you would never love me, would never feel the same as I do for you and how sorry you are to do this to me. I thought we were moving in together, I thought you picked me. But there I am in a pile of tissues and tears. By the end of that pitiful week my anxiety medicine is running close to empty and the bottle of wine we bought together has long been drained. When I finally open the windows, get dressed and move on with life your name pops up in my email, my phone, and my facebook. Periodically you want to ask how I am or share a useless fact. When I realize I'm starting to be pulled back into you I tell you to leave me alone and that nothing can be undone. Goodbye is what I say. I'm unsettled by these encounters and when I recover from the strength it took to reject your presence in my life you again start a war with the part of me that is trying to un-love you. You tell me you'll see me in California. Confused, I ask "what do you mean?" You tell me you are also staying at the M hotel in September. Panic creeps into my stomach and into my throat. The universe is being much too forgiving of you, allowing you to steal these moments of mine. It's getting harder to keep pushing you out.

If Only...

If only we were caterpillars. I would wrap myself into a cocoon until winter was over. We would share the same tree branch and swing in the soft winter winds. When spring came everything would be new. We would wake from our dreams and fly away. Just you, and I, being butterflies. 

The Summer of Goodbye

You told me you'd never give up on me and asked me how I could on you. I never knew you planned on staying. So I made space for you.

Maybe too much.

I was still holding your hand when you walked away. 

You made the wrong choice, but finally, I let go.

My phone screen lights up and your name appears. 

'I made a mistake'  'what can I do?'

You can 'be well'

Goodbye Leo. 

Love. 

Goodnight You

Sweet girl, rest your eyes. It' been a long day. Get some sleep. Tomorrow will be brighter and better. But it's night time now. Dream sweetly. we don't have to decide anything right now. Save it for another time, when the day is new. Love.

Friendship. Benefits. & That Pesky Universe.

     People ask me why we aren't together, why I don't want to be more than friends. I usually respond with various excuses describing our relationship as nothing more than friends (with benefits (for my mother's sake I don't describe that part)). I don't admit to how fond of your warm body I am either, the way you sheepishly curl up to me, unsure if I will accept this intimacy. I can't tell what it is I like about sleeping together, the warmth, the comfort, or if it's just you. Plain old you. My 8th grade playmate. My 9th grade kissing instructor, my 10th grade drinking instructor, and 23 year old friend (with benefits). 

     We play phone tag all day trying to meet up before you go back to Seattle while I stay in our home town. We finally hear each others voices but you have already left. I tell you I've just finished moving into my new place and when the line cuts out I tell myself I'll call you tomorrow. I start putting dusty books on shelves and a picture of us together at graduation falls out of one of my favorite books, "Smoke Jumper". We weren't meant to meet today and I wonder why the universe kept us apart and why this picture fell out of a book I haven't read in years. In the photo we are 18, irresponsible, wide-eyed, and full of the motivational speeches we've been hearing for the last year. We chose different paths but somehow we've met somewhere close to the middle. The universe is funny that way. So I sit down and start going through the many pictures of my teenage years and set aside my favorites of us. Prom, Prom again, graduation, snow days, rafting, and then one you took of me covered in mud after a bad start to a monday morning. My roommates girlfriend plops down next to me and tells me that you and I are the people in the movies that end up getting married. I dont argue and I don't agree, instead I smile politely and decide I'll call you back now instead of tomorrow. The phone rings, no answer. The universe is funny that way. When I crawl into bed I laugh out loud at the thought of you in a tux and I in a frilly white dress and I can't picture you in anything but your nikes, and that's what you wear to our fake wedding. You would tease me to no end if you knew what I was thinking about. But I think you would also say that Nikes look fine with a tux, I would roll my eyes and you would say that marriage is disgusting and I would reply, "yah marriage is for the birds". 

La La La Life

Life,

You are breaking my heart, taking things from me & giving them back in pieces for me to fix.
The way I choose to put them back together is usually a true mess. But also happy, sometimes a little sad.

But mostly what I wanted to tell you is that you are taking me grand places.

We’re like dancers. Our bodies making perfect shapes. Drugs fill my blood, my body becomes fluid as we drain into an echo of limbs, mouths, and sounds. I melt into you. You grab my neck, my hips, grazing your teeth down my sides and pushing my arms up with the intention to bring me deeper into you. I’m drowning in the smell of your skin, we’re drowning each other, and when I think about surfacing for air, euphoria sets in. I’m pulled from the deep by the pulsing of your fingers pressing into me until my skin molds to you. Drifting into exhaustion I exhale the things I’ve held onto for too long.

 

August

Some people don’t believe they deserve love. When they encounter it they leave the lovers silently without a peep. I wish I could take my love and place it inside of you. 

My wish is that one day you will believe in what you are, lovable. 

I find the courage to break my own heart and let you leave. I won’t wait for you, but if you come back…I’ll be the one that looks like me. You were born in August and when the sturgeon sun warms my skin I'll feel my heart wonder where your journey is taking you. Be well, Be love, Believe.