a seed can’t sprout in infertile ground
regardless of how strong it is.
in order for it to take root
and birth wispy tendrils
the soil had to give.
a whisper of a thought
comes from the smallest seed
but your mind is what allowed it to take hold
to grasp the possibility of that tiny idea
breaking out of its husk
& growing into this lush
“its a logistical thing,” he explains.
“it just makes sense for you to have one,” he reasons.
offering a drawer
in a man’s place
is a huge thing.. at least to women. [i think]
so i ask, “but what does this really mean?”
what im really asking is, don’t let my heart & mind wander off to some hopeful cliff to later plummet off of.
“its progress.” he says, as he pulls me in close to kiss my forehead.
“dont be anxious
dont be worried
i can see it in your face
we’ll figure things out”
when he catches me
before i can get caught up
in my own runaway thought train
when he lassos me with his reality
& pulls me in close
is when i realize
he’s willing to balance
on that fine line
i don’t ascribe to “the right person” theory
but i do believe people can “click.”
it feels so easy
i didnt ever know,
it could be this easy.
to enjoy listening to someone
to want to do anything to take away their stress
to believe, whole heartedly, completely & truly,
that they are amazing.
we’re those people
circling one another in their own orbit
dancing to their own music that no one else can hear
is this sustainable?
do people do this for the rest of their lives?
because i dont ever want to leave this solar system
or have to stop for water when my legs give out
i just want to keep spinning
i could be the kind of girl
just along for the ride.
revel in the silence
& await the big reveal.
& if he bows out
before it ever gets to that point in this romantic comedy?
rewrite the script
cast a new leading man.
you still have a movie.
i wish i could be that girl.
more than any other self deprecating thoughts i have–
this one ranks the highest.
but because i can’t
because i’ve tried
again & again
at trying to be her,
can’t we just have a go at me being this one?
& not consider each time i push for answers
to be two steps backward into the abyss of unknowns?
that grey area
where you can’t tell where the horizon is,
the foreground from the background,
or anything in between
is what got me here
in the first place.
this is me
in the middle of a room
with a hundred different paint swatches of grey
laid out around me
holding each one up to the light
to see if it matches the walls.
“is it more of a ‘classic french grey’? … no? how bout an ‘earl grey’? or ‘gauntlet grey’?
i think i got it–
“is she your type?” i ask, motioning to the smokin’ hot YouTube guru i had playing on his desktop
“come here” he says, pulling me to sit on his lap at the edge of his bed
“you are my type” he affirms, wrapping his arms around my waist
“no i’m not” i laugh rolling my eyes, then searching his for a visual contradiction to his words
i find none.
“you are now.” and he kisses me on the cheek
cliches are born for a reason
& completely out of character
until someone makes you feel the way
you should’ve always felt about another person
they are the reminder
that if what you feel about him
isnt the stuff of love songs on repeat
or throwing pebbles at a girl’s window kind of grand gesture
its not it.
the magic sauce.
dont settle for your lukewarm feelings
its your heart urging you
to keep lookin’
missing people easily isn’t natural for him
& now that i think about it,
it isn’t for me too.
i’ve had boyfriends go on
long family vacations
& they’d have to pull the words out of me
“don’t you miss me yet?” they’d ask.
i’d say it because..
you’re supposed to say it.
but it was usually such a relief to have them away
it told me i could be fine without
which i thought was just because i’m reasonable
just slightly emotionally detached.
but with you,
i may be at the mercy of my feelings
i may fall apart when you leave.
& the ache will be a throbbing never ending feeling
that can’t be satiated with texts
& quick layover visits
& alexa drop-ins
& you’ll think to yourself,
this girl just feels too much
& assume that this is my M.O when people leave me,
but it’s as if my heart just reserved all this,
just for you.