I WANT TO LOVE YOU LIKE A RABID BEAST. LIKE A GLUTTONOUS CHILD, LOOSENING HIS BELT AT THE DINNER TABLE TO MAKE ROOM FOR MORE AND MORE SUSTENANCE
July 5, 2023: I wish I could remember every thought that I’ve had in my life. It’s the Fourth of July and I’m watching your family in the pool. It’s hot. ...Sunday morning, I drive past the store where I bought you that little ceramic bear and am overcome with grief. It’s summer, and it’s hot, and I miss you. And I’m wearing a tank top today which I never do.
June 18, 2023: Yesterday I was wincing into the bright light coming through the smog over the highway when I saw a truck in front of me with plates from your home state. I taped a list of people I have kissed to the fence in front of the abandoned house with the plastic halloween decorations hanging from the porch swing.I bought a book about Love yesterday, the kind where they teach you how to be a better partner- how to love yourself or some crap.I told myself I wouldn’t write about you anymore. I wouldn’t write about Love Or Heartbreak.Or sex..But if there’s one thing about me, it’s that I can’t keep a secret. Can you?
May 26, 2023: The smell of an fudge pop and old rain through my window makes me think of the tree with the big roots on the street parallel to my childhood home. I never intended to fall in love with you. Or out of it.
May 25, 2023:I run my finger over the sharp edge of my beer can I hold on the bar patio. I glance at a couple a few tables away. Probably on their third or fourth date. I continue to stroke the jagged metal edge of my beer like I used to stroke the callus on your finger. Only this time, it hurts. I really once thought you’d come into my life as some sort of karmic fate. That maybe we came from the same star and would one day return there. Our song was “American Girl” by Tom Petty. I think being vulnerable came too easy for me and too difficult for you. I don’t think I really value strength. Maybe because I’m not a strong person- despite what you used to always tell me.
May 2, 2023: Hmm. Maybe that dream I had last night was a sign. From who? I don’t know.
April 15, 2023: It’s been over a year since I promised you I would crochet you that hat. I bought the yarn and everything, but I never did. Do you remember when we played in the grass? Do you remember when the water was so cold in the creek that we couldn’t swim at all? Do you remember when I stacked some rocks on your chest in a pyramid and you laughed and they tumbled off? Do you remember asking if you could kiss me? Did you notice how I always used to rub the callus on your finger like a worry stone? Do you remember dancing around the kitchen at your house? ...... We lie in my bed on my new quilt- you remark how beautiful it is as my roommates dog licks my wounds. I kiss your forehead and then cry because I really want to kiss your mouth.