Letter to Jonathan
like a chess piece misplaced on a checker board. everyhing looks familiar but i can't place a single goddamn face. it's so lonely when everyone knows your name. i am the rook always going north or south. east or west. but never getting anywhere.
aren't you lonely? people always walking around protecting you. keeping you alive because without you, the game is over. there are no second chances, no maybes or well-maybe-if-i-did-this.
i suppose an explanation...no.
this is me trying to write government essays. i get distracted when i remember:
Do you still have all my old emails?
you once told me you still had them. and i still had yours. have. i think.
and we would write TO each other constantly. a quick heyhowyadoin before school and a whoait'slateioughtagotobed before we passed out asleep on the floor.
that's what it was always all about.
i feel so comfortable saying anything to you.
you say i'm the female version of you. but i hate me and i love you. so how does that work?
no ex post facto, dear. don't worry. i'll say nothing if you promise me a happy ending. no. don't tell me. i don't want to know. just tell me you'll always be there for me.
i'm sending you your [uber late] birthday present when i get back from nyc. i hope you like it. i just can't be sure. it seems fitting: it IS my birthday on monday. the anniversary of the day i popped out of my mom's uterus. yay me. why am i celebrating? she should be. whoah. carolyn. you pushed something TWO FEET TALL and 10 POUNDS out of that tiny little hole? congratulations. Happy You-Made-it-Through-it Day. Cake all around. that sounded like a rock on my window. i wish it were you. that would be fun.
aren't you lonely? people always walking around protecting you. keeping you alive because without you, the game is over. there are no second chances, no maybes or well-maybe-if-i-did-this.
i suppose an explanation...no.
this is me trying to write government essays. i get distracted when i remember:
Do you still have all my old emails?
you once told me you still had them. and i still had yours. have. i think.
and we would write TO each other constantly. a quick heyhowyadoin before school and a whoait'slateioughtagotobed before we passed out asleep on the floor.
that's what it was always all about.
i feel so comfortable saying anything to you.
you say i'm the female version of you. but i hate me and i love you. so how does that work?
no ex post facto, dear. don't worry. i'll say nothing if you promise me a happy ending. no. don't tell me. i don't want to know. just tell me you'll always be there for me.
i'm sending you your [uber late] birthday present when i get back from nyc. i hope you like it. i just can't be sure. it seems fitting: it IS my birthday on monday. the anniversary of the day i popped out of my mom's uterus. yay me. why am i celebrating? she should be. whoah. carolyn. you pushed something TWO FEET TALL and 10 POUNDS out of that tiny little hole? congratulations. Happy You-Made-it-Through-it Day. Cake all around. that sounded like a rock on my window. i wish it were you. that would be fun.