Libations & Sobering Words

If only he would have burned me.

Burned me so badly I would chuckle and scoff at the "lucky" girl who called him hers.

Instead I look at him sideways, with a bit of a tilt-to-the-head, and an almost undetectable pit in my stomach that I try my best to ignore when I hear him talk about her. When he talks about flying to stay with her family for a week; when he talks about being in love, when he talks about marriage. I tilt my head and stare blankly a bit, I remind myself to blink.

I don't wish I were her.
And I don't wish I were his.
I don't even wish he were mine.
I'm almost sure of that.


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We were in the car driving back to my apartment, after having picked up a couple of bottles of wine. For my roommate & I, not for us. 
And like clockwork, I said some self-deprecating joke.

It had been months since he and I had last seen each other, even longer since spending time together, so I guess I had kind of forgotten who he was.

But then he responded and I felt my eyes wake up again, and I remembered who he was and why I had let months go by without calling.
I smirked and bit the inside of my cheek to keep myself from smiling, like when something finally clicks and you realize it.

His response was unexpected, but from him, entirely not.

I knew this is what held me for so long.
The way he saw me...I had always loved the way he saw me.
I think it's exactly the kind of thing that holds anyone for so long after the fact.


If only he said something like anyone else would have.

If only he would've been more like the others: eager to tell me who I am, eager to put me in a box, falsely allowing me to be myself, then shaming me without notice.

If only he would have said something hurtful when I gave him the chance...and I had given him many a chance.


If only he would have burned me.


But he didn't.




He illuminated me.





The distance, though, the miles, the time, makes it easy to forget.

Thank God for that.



-S

The Thick Of It

It happens to all of us.

It brings us together and it rips us apart.

Times when you experience something you know you won't ever forget. 

As much as you may want to. As much as you try.

When you are right in the thick of it, as it's happening, you know you it's already there for good.

It's the time he swept your hair from your face and you could've sworn he meant it the way you thought he did.

It's the time you watch your best friend drive away and call another place home, and you watch as your town shifts color.

It's the time someone says something hurtful as they look you in the eye, and you've stepped outside yourself to see how the words broke you.

It's the time you realize just how lonely you might be for a while. It sits like a weight on your chest that you can't ignore.

It's the time you feel absolutely nothing as you sink into the bathtub, knowing it'll all come rushing back when you come up for air

There are these moments in life

These fucked yet eye-rollingly refining moments that happen and stay.

They make a home in you. Unannounced, sometimes unwelcome.

It's a beautifully damned thing. 

I'm just not sure which.

-S

Details

Sometimes all it takes is a song on the radio. 

One song and you’re back in his car, the night you drove until the freeway ended.

A blouse you put on as you rush out the door, panicked; steal a quick glance in the mirror as you hear his whisper twirl around you: "You look good," he said. Only loud enough for you to hear.

The taste of crisp ocean air on your tongue, and the way it seems to rinse out your lungs. It reminds you of the night the black December water left you drenched in salt and regret.

Passing by a place where your words made a home from the hours you clocked there.

Or simply by looking into the eyes of another: a look that hasn’t yet rivaled the way he looked at you.

It’s the details. The small, miniscule things that we don’t choose to keep, but still.

But still.

We are left with the remains.

-S