we are unusual and tragic and alive

the last time i kissed him
it was a goodbye.
the last kiss is always a goodbye
whether you realize it at that moment
or a week later
when you’re drowning in your own tears. 

i saw him at the supermarket today
with his new blonde girlfriend,
holding hands, and examining the back of a
box of cookies. he looked taller,
but he wasn’t and he looked happier too,
but he wasn’t really that either.

i could’ve said hello, but instead
i ducked behind the baking aisle.
i’m doing better now, i’m finally
doing well and i’m sorry,
but i don’t need you anymore. 

At this point, I’ve lost all faith that he’ll ever tell me he loves me. After long, dragging months spent waiting and wishing, spent staring into those big blue eyes every quiet moment, as if he could somehow read my mind and know what I wanted to hear, I’ve given up. I used to try on boys like slipping on new sweaters for the winter, measuring how comfortably our fingers laced together, always searching for the best tasting lips. And then I found him and he made me laugh the way you wouldn’t believe and I felt things I’d never felt before. I fell in love for the first time. Now, I’m always laughing the way you wouldn’t believe and feeling new things each day and maybe this is growing up, this overwhelming disappointment when you want something so badly but still you’re denied it again and again and again. Three simple words; that’s all I need: “I love you.” Because he makes me dream with eyes wide open, he makes me sing Hall and Oates early in the morning while making breakfast, he makes me happy. From that very first kiss that sent me reeling, I’ve loved him and now I’m starting to realize that he might never love me too.

I woke up to the smell of rain today, the sound of it beating against the window and your arms wrapped tightly around my waist. Felt your warm, steady breath against my shoulder as you slept soundly, pulled the blanket over you to keep you warm. These last few months have sped by like a runaway train and soon, it’ll be summer again- mosquito bites on my bare legs and bonfires well into the night and sun screen applied over our freckled noses. My life is panning out like I never would’ve believed possible until you took my hand and led me in the right direction. Thank you for these constant smiles, for giving me butterflies, for our limbs tangled together in the dark. Thank you for being mine.