Things I Think You Should Know

Please don’t delete this.

You have every right to honestly. And I wouldn’t blame you if you did.
And still, please don’t delete this.
Please hear me out.

I should have picked up the phone. Or at least I should have called you back.
Now, a year later. I wish I had done something
other than avoid your calls.
But I was mad. So so mad at you.

You should know that I didn’t think answering or calling back would have done any good.

You set the bar that every guy I date has to measure up to.
And I feel bad for them, because
it may be a fruitless cause.

You should know that for a while you crossed my mind when I kissed other guys.

And I know that’s horrible. I tried not to.
I just wonder what it would have been like if we had…
would it be magical, electric?
like nothing I’ve ever felt before?

You should know that I did give up.

I was so tired. So done with not being good enough for you.
but even though I deleted your number from my phone
one warm summer night
I forgot how intrenched you were…
how difficult it would be to really give you up
because I found it in my electronic address book months later
hidden away, with other important things I cannot bear to lose.

You should know that it’s still there. You should know that I’ve thought about using it.

You are the longest story.
The one I continue to tell even though it’s over…
You are the shortness of breath I still get sometimes
when I remember what it was like to be loved by you.

You should know I refuse to delete my yahoo email, even though I barely use it now and it started sending you spam.

because then I’d have to get rid of the last of all the words we said,
all the brownie points we gave,
the brief notes…just thinking of you
the late night confessions
the last of everything that made me fall in love with you.
and I refuse to lose that too.

You should know that my friends hate you.

They are glad to be rid of you.
They believe that I am better off without you.
And they do not understand why I still write about you.
Why I still mention you at all.
And I bite my tongue,
so the words do not tumble out of my mouth
like a melancholy ache,

“Because he’s my first love…”

You should know I was in love with you.

And maybe I knew it, but didn’t want to admit it.
And maybe I knew it, but you were in love with someone else
so I convinced myself I wasn’t.
And maybe I knew it, but didn’t want to give you so much credit
for being the reason for such anguish.

You should know that when you said, “you know it when you feel it”
I felt like you disregarded every feeling I ever had for you.

Like just because I didn’t realize it, or wouldn’t admit it,
it wasn’t love.
But it was.
I was.
I was in love with you.
And that scared the shit out of me.

And you just passed over that feeling,
because I didn’t label it correctly
like an unknown spice in the cupboard,
recognizable yet still unclear
so you never use it.

You should know that maybe it could have been the secret ingredient to something really wonderful.

Right now you’re thinking,
a bit too poetic don’t you think?
Fuck that.
I’ll be as poetic as I fucking want.

You should know that you’re the reason for that.

With you, everything was poetic.
The things you’d say,
the way you’d sigh,
the way your eyes would rest on me,
the way I fell in love with you.

You should know that when it comes to you, I can’t help it.
You should know that I hope at one point, it was one of the things you loved about me.

I know that you’ve moved on.
The hiatus, break, whatever you call it
turned into a cancellation
so many good things end that way
abruptly and without resolution.

You should know that I still watch the reruns sometimes.

In my head of course
Always wondering what if?
Occasionally crying,
sometimes yelling,
definitely laughing
because it was good.
So good.

You should know that I finally figured out the difference between want and need.

I’ve learned that I don’t need you in my life.
Because I’m okay without you.
But I do want you.
Somehow, in some way…I want you.
And I’ve learned that that’s okay too.

You should know that there are a lot of things you did that weren’t okay.

I know your intentions were good.
You loved me.
But it didn’t feel like that when it really counted
It felt forced,
and I felt smothered by this love
this love I was supposed to return but couldn’t at the time.

You should know I spent those months of silence,
trying to remember how to love you.
I wanted to love you.
I wanted to make all your dreams come true
and tell you that yes, me too.
I love you too.

You should know that I wanted that feeling so badly.

Too much had happened though.
The summer from hell
cannot just be fixed by a plane ticket and a surprise visit
and I really wish you had just asked me.
Asked me if you could see me,
asked me if we could work things out in person
instead of quick phone calls, and emails, and skype sessions
Told me you were sorry
and I would have said I’m sorry too

You should know that love is a two way street
and we were supposed to be a team
we were supposed to work things out together.
not you making a decision that you thought was good for both of us
and then never asking, “Is this okay?”

You should know it’s because of you that I hate surprises now.

Some days the scene at the library where
you suddenly appear out of no where next to me
plays out differently in my head
Maybe I fainted,
Maybe I sat down on the edge of the sidewalk
because I couldn’t bare to stand
and we talked about it right there
Maybe I yelled at you
screamed at you, and how could you?
But I never kiss you, not like I know you wanted me too.

You should know that I still dream of you.

My subconscious teases me with snippets
of what it’d be like to run into you
like it’s the most normal thing in the world
and then I wake up
and I realize I’m never going to see you again.

You should know that I don’t understand how this all happened.

Like yesterday was two years ago
and I was in love with you
but today you’re gone.

You should know that I felt my stomach clench the last time I saw you.

I watched you
in your cap and gown,
proud of this accomplishment
a little swagger in your step,
like you always do.
I could have yelled out to you.
I could have run after you.
I could have told you all these things
and then congratulated you.

What would you have done if I had?

You should know that the thought of what you would do paralyzed me on those bleachers.

I didn’t move.
I kept my mouth shut,
left the water undisturbed.
It was the polite thing to do I thought
the nice, and respectful thing
I allowed you to walk into the crowd of black gowns
lost you in the sea of congratulations
and I let you be
whatever it is that you are,
and maybe you are happy.

You should know that I hope you are, happy that is.

You should know that no matter what you think,
I never wanted things to be this way.

You should know that my heart still aches for you
on rainy afternoons, when I cook potatoes,
when I see sales for nerf guns
when we watch UP at the child center where I work.
when I look at Gus in the chair beside my bed, the most beautiful stuffed platypus
when I realize my socks don’t match.

You should know that I don’t regret you.
I don’t ever wish it never happened.
I don’t ever want to take it back.

I forgive you.
I forgive me.

You should know that I know we can’t go back.
You should know that I don’t want to.
You should know that it’s never too late to start fresh.
You should know that my door is open if you ever want to.

I just think you should know these things.
So I’m telling you these things.
So that you know.

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If I Didn’t Know Better

i don’t want to write about him
i was done writing about him

there was nothing left to say
i kept telling myself
there was nothing left to save

there’s nothing left to save

i didn’t fight my way out of the darkness
just for him to drive me back in
i didn’t come all this way
just to lose myself again

our story just won’t end
i fear it never will
and i’m tired of fighting a losing battle

why can’t he just let me go?

How You Haven’t Changed

I know I disappointed you.
I know I let you down.
But this isn’t about you.
And you keep making it about you.

You’re not the one who has to live with my choices
maybe in a parallel universe you would have had a say,
but we are not a couple, we never were
so you don’t get to be upset with me

You don’t get to preach from your high horse
well, I guess it’s a bike you ride now…
Because your pedals don’t make you better than me
and those miles don’t make you wiser or more deserving

And I won’t assume that you’re running away from reality
or accuse you of delaying the inevitable reevaluation of your life
because it’s not my place anymore to share my opinion
or enlighten you to the hypocrisy of your attack

What really gets me though,
is your assumption of my feelings for you
and your certainty of my fear of your rejection
which, in all honesty, is laughable

Maybe I haven’t changed,
maybe I’m not the girl you fell in love with
but you didn’t want her anyway
so you won’t hear me complain

But you still think I want you, need you,
oh baby oh baby
so it’s clear you’re the one who hasn’t changed
and while it’s disappointing, it’s definitely not surprising.

Ass-U-Me

I am unemployed sitting on the couch
next to your tendency to humiliate me
and I don’t know how you do it
from a hundred miles away
but I’m thinking of sleeping through it
to get to the end of you and I

And I think you should know something I’ve learned
in my reevaluation of your charm

You are a stubborn asshole who refuses to acknowledge
what you put me through
and you act like I’m the problem in this case
but you’re the one who’s running away
yet still stuck in the same place.

I never said I wanted you
and I think you just wish that wasn’t true
so you assume
and you accuse
me of hoarding feelings for you

And I think you should know something I’ve learned
in my reevaluation of your faults

You are a selfish bastard who can’t let go of the past
and admit you’re wrong
and you ignore the possibility
that I’ve actually moved on
and will never love you that way again.

I never said I wanted you
so I don’t know where you got that from
but the joke’s on you this time
because that’s never going to happen

it’s pretty obvious who wants who
but you can’t have me
so try not to let your love for me consume you
I’ll tell you now there’s no point in waiting for me

All My Time

I spend too much time alone
listening to sad music
lying on my bed
sitting at my desk
staring at the stuff surrounding me
that means nothing at all

My heart aches for reasons I still don’t know

I spend too much time wondering
of all the boys I could have loved,
the ones I didn’t,
the ones I thought, that maybe…yeah soon-ish.
and the one I did,
but couldn’t.

My body is heavy with all the things I’m not doing

I spend too much time waiting
for him to text
for life to make sense
for love to no longer hurt
for my hair to dry before I can put it up
like it took no time at all to look so good

My eyes are not strong enough to hold my tears

When will I finally be okay?

You and Him and Hindsight

Loving him was ignorance
playing hopscotch on hot coals
never noticing the burns and blisters
until it was too late

Loving him was a picture perfect moment
water logged and smeared
into distinctive smudges
that I thought could be put back into focus.

Loving you was a sunny Friday in June
your hands encapsulating mine
as we waited at a street corner
and kissing in the elevator of the art museum

Loving you was the swing set of my childhood playground
you pulling me closer just to caress my lips
and the giddy sloshing of hope in my stomach
when you first confessed you missed me.

Losing him was brittle and rough against my skin
picking at scabs that won’t quite heal
peeling him off like dead skin after a severe sunburn
fascinated by how easily it could all tear apart.

Losing you was like waking up from a wonderful dream
subtle and disorienting, and much too late to stay asleep
grasping at the details before they slip away with you
always wishing it could have lasted a little longer.

Missing him was constant, overbearing and deliberate
Hating him was justified, acceptable and all I did for so long
Forgiving him was slow, stubborn, yet possible

Missing you was subconscious, involuntary, like breathing
Hating you was impossible, even though I wanted to
Forgiving you was perplexing, astonishing, and hopeless

I know better now.
How unfortunate it is
that only hindsight is 20/20

Retreat

I haven’t dreamt of him in months,
maybe years even, if I feel like lying to myself
It’s easy to find comfort in the canopy of sleep

I’ve been so over protective of my nights,
avoiding the shadows of my memory
I forgot to safe guard the days
from the blinding light in the tiniest sliver of hope

The rush of daytime is dangerous
and I find him hidden in the stillness
a habit of my thoughts just to tumble into his arms
like old lovers falling into step,
hand in hand.

He comes with the autumn chill,
wrapped in the yarn of my scarves,
landing like the first snowflake on my tongue,
I wait for his arrival, too willing to embrace him.

This is why I shouldn’t be left alone
to my own devices.

I’ll let him inside,
rummage around the kitchen
to make a mess of everything
spilling regret on the counter,
leaving my love out too long it starts to sour,
but still smells sweet enough to taste.

And against my better judgment,
my only line of defense is
verse.

The fallback tactic,
retreat,
retreat,
retreat…

Poetry will save me.

In Missing You

It’s almost one am,
a quarter past nostalgia
and I miss you.

Like I never have before.
Before it was always chaotic and violent,
bordering on insanity.

My nerves on the edge of tingling
and my heart restless and yearning
theatrical at my best, and melo-dramatic at my worst

I have always missed you,
like I might die without you.

But you’ve been gone much longer
than I can even hold my breath,
and it’s not so difficult remembering how to breathe.

I don’t want to say I gave you up.

You were never mine to let go of,
but my hands are cramped from
holding your memory too tight.

So I miss you.
Funny how it’s getting easier to admit.

It’s quiet and resigned,
a deep inhale, and an uncertain sigh.

I’m not sure which yearning I prefer
neither seems to satisfy
I thought it would make it easier
to give moving on a try.

If It Hadn’t Been For Loving You

I’ve never seen myself
as one of those tragically beautiful girls
pushed to the brink of sadness
in the most poetic way

I thought though,
that that’s what you wanted,
Someone to save.
Someone to need you.

So I tore myself apart for you
fell to pieces at your feet
and gave you everything
you ever wanted

You put me back together
a delicate touch, by a shaky hand
and if it hadn’t been for loving you
I would have turned out alright.

The stitches itch
and the pain meds are wearing off
to remind me that you’re gone
now that your work’s all done

While you’ve fixed me perfectly
I find myself a ruin in need of you
the glue holding my fragile frame in place
and no one else will do

If it hadn’t been for loving you
I would never know the price
If it hadn’t been for loving you
I would have given up the fight.