507
It’s been 507 days since I first saw your face. That’s 1 year, 4 months and 19 days. Since we first kissed. First shaked San Diego sand off of our feet, first shared a bed, you and I, together under moonlight.
And in those 507 days, you may never have counted the minutes away from me, as I have.
Your name is etched in my mind like my last name.
You’ve hurt me, deeper than anyone.
And I still can’t get you off of my mind.
I love you still. Why do I love you still?
I
Love my father. Still.
And he’s hurt me
Too.
So I find space to love you. I rationalize this in ways that make
Sense.
507 days of thinking about you.
Those pillowy lips.
Your skin.
since then so much has happened.
Goodbyes. Hellos.
Never speak to me again.
How have you been?
Leave me alone.
Poems I perhaps shouldn’t have sent.
Texts I should have held in.
Fights.
Hugs.
Relationships with other people.
Engagements.
Fiancés.
Heartbreaks of women I couldn’t move on with.
Embarrassment.
Explanations to our friends.
A friendship we tried
And failed to create.
Hate.
Love.
Indifference.
Unblocked and blocked.
And I still can’t get you off my mind.
I try not to romanticize our toxicity.
I try not to tell myself there were good times.
They weren’t more
Than the bad.
Today, I feel you more
Than ever.
You told me once to
Write notes instead of write to you
So that’s what I do now.
I’m not sure if you think of me
At all.
Or ever.
Going through my block list and realized you were still on it.
I don’t know if you’ve called
Or tried
Or texted on a vulnerable
Evening. Or if you miss me.
tonight as the weather is chill in New York and the leaves blow and I wear this hoodie- I think of the merry Christmas we never had.
Like
Clockwork, every fall now, reminds me
Of the fall we broke
Up. Right before my birthday. Right at the tale end of September.
why are you still on my mind?
Why do I still
Long for you?
Why do I miss you like Noone else?
I can’t tell
My friends. They will say we are bad for one another. They will say what is the point?
And they are right.
You have moved on.
With him.
Or with another.
Or with whoever else.
Names and places are irrelevant.
You might be in London
Or
Spain
Or California
Or Berlin
Or 24 minutes away in New York.
I don’t have access anymore.
It’s always me, trying to find you
Trying to figure you out.
It’s this same mystery that keeps me
Seeking you. And you know it.
I looked at the moon tonight and sent you love.
Did you feel it?
Across oceans and land. I know you felt it.
I sat and watched
Casa de alofoke and thought, that only you and I would be able to talk and dissect this TV show for hours. Psychologically dissect every character together. Compare it to us. Compare it to the dynamic.
At the end, you were my diary and my best friend.
I lost you. You lost me. We lost our greatest concubine in chisme and gossip and telenovelas.
Our love a telenovela on it’s own.
Why do I still think of you?
When maybe you think of
Someone else.
But maybe you’re with someone else
And I’m the someone else you think about.
I may never know.
Part of me longs for you.
Like that song.
Like
The deserts miss the rain.
Part of
Me
Wants to never see you again.
Protect my heart. My skin. My
Touch. From
Yours.
Everyday I dance between forgetting you and hoping to have you near.
Today I can’t choose.
So
I simply
Won’t.
