I fumble through the closet
drawers throwing articles of clothing frantically, until my floor is a sea of
socks and sweatpants as well as last week’s laundry. I’m searching as my vision blurs like that of
a windshield in the pouring rain. The more I wipe away, the more that seem to
come. My hands are shaking and my body feels as if there’s acid in my
bloodstream; there is so much pain. I told myself I’d never look back once you
boarded that flight but there are pieces of you that my heart holds with an
iron grip. I trace the surface of the uneven blue box that holds memories that
I’ve kept on pause for quite some time. I play them when the night is too cold
or the pain too fierce and the thunder too loud. I’ve tried to rip them away
from me -believe me I’ve tried.
An anniversary card given in the
month of December as we walked hand in hand down the city streets, cheeks
flushed from the warmth of our hearts and the fluttering of our stomachs. I
never believed it was possible for flowers to bloom in winter until then. I
remember the snow falling on your eyelashes perfectly. I looked away at the
cold, desolate sky and you read my mind as if it were an open book. You said, “Baby
don’t you worry, I’m not going anywhere.” We proceeded to walk and I tried to
calm my shaking knees, they always seemed to give out when you came near.
A ticket to the same love story
we’ve seen a thousand times before but this one was different. I don’t recall
anything that occurred in it because my eyes were fixated on the way our hands
intertwined in the darkness. It made me wonder what it would be like to hold
you close and feel your chest rise and fall like crashing waves. To memorize
the way your silhouette curved and protruded in all the right places like a
landscape covered in linen. I would feel
your heartbeat like ticks on a clock and I’d be somewhere between sleepy and
senseless but so at peace in your presence. I could imagine your cologne on my
sheets and listening to the pitter patter of raindrops on our windowpane. I
would open my eyes and see you lying there blissfully in a mountain of
comforter. I’d move closer and tangle my feet with yours underneath the covers
and kiss you goodnight three times.
A receipt for my birthday dinner,
you took me out to celebrate the day love was born. We shared a drink and you
made me laugh so hard my insides burned and my cheeks grew tired but you
laughed with me as if time stood still, the champagne bubbles stopped moving,
there was just the sound of your laughter serenading my ears.
I never realized what a metaphor
the time you forced me onto a roller coaster was. I remember climbing up to the
highest point, my body clenched and hands balled into fists as if I could fight
my way out of the drop to come. But you kissed me right as the cart started
tipping downward. I opened my eyes as we fell and I saw the wind through your
hair and heard the goofiest laugh escape your lips. You pried my hands from the
bar and said “Enjoy the ride baby, it’ll be over before you know it.” It was.
You sit in her bed and stroke her
hair until she falls asleep. You turn down the lights and climb into bed but
before you close your eyes you tangle your feet with hers underneath the covers
and kiss her goodnight three times.
He shuts the lights and flops
into bed beside me; no words are spoken.
What if I dialed your number? Who
would answer? Or would I get an operator telling me it was time to give up?
I got your Christmas card in the
mail; she’s very beautiful. I told you you’d find someone better and your
little boy is something special, he has his father’s cleft chin and his mother’s
right dimple.
Me? I’m doing okay. Holding it
together even though it feels as if I’m bursting at the seams. I’m a book with
too many pages, the readers are desperate for the ending. Lately I’ve spent my
time with creaky floorboards and unsuccessful checklists.
Do you think love can crash into
you more than once? Because when I brace for impact and I can feel it in my
grasp, like the smell of rain before the storm- it seems to vanish. I’m always
a few cents short. I open my eyes and realize the only way I can be close to
you is through scraps of old paper and faded memories. I kiss him and it
reminds me of the way your lips taste. That shouldn't be.
I lie in the dark thinking, how
in god’s name is this fair?
But God must be busy because he
hasn’t found the time to get back to me yet.
Jusqu'à ce qu'une autre vie, mon
amour.
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