Tuesday, February 28, 2012

i thought

we would end up together
as if we were headed to a place with an end
and that when we got there,
we'd look around and find nobody but us.
not in a "stranded at the end of the cul de sac and not sure if there's enough wiggle room to flip a bitch"
but more in a "oh, hey, here we are"
in a way that was somewhat surprising,
when in reality part of us always knew.

that doesn't make this in-between space any less hard to bear
that doesn't make it easier to hear you're kinda, sorta, repeatedly, semi-seriously
seeing someone else
getting drinks with, sharing bites with, kissing, dating, sleeping with someone else.
thank you for packing your overnight bag in front of me.
your actions spoke clearer than your words.
particularly the part where you stayed five feet away at all times
so that i could barely feel you in the room.
so that our phone conversations when 2,000 miles apart felt more sincere
than sharing breathing space.
little breathing happened that day.

and no, it is not my intention to ignore you
but i can't yet
i can't pretend that its okay that i feel betrayed
i can't pretend that its just the distance that separates us
i can't pretend that i can still be your friend
and forget about the rest.

give me time and i'll remember what its like to hold back
give me time and i'll remember how to lie to you
give me time and i will be just a phone call away
just the best friend who you can call when things go awry with her
in time, maybe,
but i can't yet
so please, give me time to grieve this loss.

let me let the dream of us go, before you tell me about your new ones.

Monday, February 13, 2012

it's been

6 months. today.

Thursday, February 2, 2012

the silence on the other end of the phone
the stillness in the shadow of your presence
the complete and utter inability
to thinkwritereadspeaktalkarticulate;
the moment your heart doesn't just skip a beat
but probably face plants in its own internal dialogue

but does that mean...?


kinda like how everything can be going great
and the work is the work is the work is the work
I want to be doing
and routine is routine is routine is routine.
until
oh. so you're doing fine. that's good. me too.
finished your book yet?
seeing someone new?
miss me much?
i don't miss you at all.
actually, though
i hardly think about you anymore
and at first it was because it was too much
and now perhaps it's just not enough
but really, 
i'm fine.

until signs of you appeared
and everything stop.ped.