series of emotional movements (dedicated to age 21 also dedicated to the bracketed we, not the plural form of I)
“I wish I didn’t date so many pushy women? Next time. . .”
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“When you come back from
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“. . .”
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Yes, I told him, but I was thinking, 'No.'
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No, I told him, but I was thinking, 'Yes.'
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Yes, I told her, but I was thinking, 'No.'
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No, I told her, but I was thinking, 'Yes.'
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"Please let's be. . .” I begin.
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Please let's be, I want.
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“Fluid?” I asked
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He didn't understand what I meant by. . .
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She didn't understand what I meant by. . .
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I meant an ever-changing . . .
“. . . You can do better than him. . .”
She can hear her friend’s words, but she doesn’t believe her.
“What’s good with her? She’s all right looking, but you can do better than her. . .”
He can hear his friend’s words, but he doesn’t believe him.
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“What the hell’s wrong with you?”
“What the hell is wrong with you?”
We can hear our friend’s words, but we don’t believe in ourselves, that is what wrong with us.
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He wants to point a finger at all his friends. She wants to point a finger at all her friends; somehow their friends’ perspectives have lead to this:
Heartache
Temporary Heart Ache
Hurt Feelings
Temporary Hurt Feelings
Feelings of Loss
Temporary Feelings of Loss
Absence of Heat
Temporary Absence of Heat
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Actually, it often happens in a quiet area, where the pavement stretches to no place important. It is in these places we become decisive and everything about everything is wrong.
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I called person number seven on the telephone after I wished, in a text message, the connection we were creating never existed and all the promises he was touching thumbs to were sugared.
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Just before the twelve text messages I called person number eight and asked if he would be willing to meet me in a café somewhere downtown in the center of
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Just before confronting person number eight, I called then texted person number nine,
‘Hello.’
‘What happened?’
‘Is everything all right?’
‘How’s your grandfather? Arts and crafts session?’
But after the summer I was given the silent treatment.
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I just wanted an honest answer. They all wanted an answer. . .
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Do I belong in your life? Or am I a piece wedged in?
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I'm sure I don't because I am too complex. . .
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“Well it’s because. . .” He twiddles his thumbs then grabs the cup of coffee that is in front of him.
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I never asked to be treated or seen as a princess. . .
I never asked for candied nothings. . .
I never asked to be trusted, but . . .
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I wanted to slip into these fantasies.
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I often leave without a real explanation. I don't want to hear the truth.
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“Because. . . I just want you. . .”
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While I was on the phone I recited to myself that I didn’t want person number seven; however I still asked if he wanted to be friends. He said, “Yes.” I asked him if he was sure.
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But why?
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“. . .”
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“I like you for who you are. . . I mean. . .”
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“Sweetheart. . .”
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“. . .”
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“I. . . I,” he released a sigh, “I’m sorry I ruined the mood.”
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‘Keep aimlessly smiling, tell everyone what they want to hear, so that you’ll never lose these sources of comfort.’
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“. . .Stay. . .”
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". . ."
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“I could treat you like a princess. . .”
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". . ."
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“I. . . I-I’m sorry. . . I’m confused."
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We all were.
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My final message to and conversation with person seven and person eight, since both of them seemed to be wishing me wellness was: 'A chicken can't fly because it never stepped off the branch nor can a fish breath air because it wasn't born on land. Wishing is for water and air breathers.'
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In a round about way I meant don't make promises that are well over your limits; you see I just wished them well, it sort of ended there.
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Perhaps I was just being stupid.
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