grey

i wish
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?
it’s fine.
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
and failed
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–

“agreeable grey”

valerie

you dont know this
& i may never in this lifetime get the opportunity to share this with you
which could either be my solace or my curse
but after seeing you that night,
i went home & searched for my favorite version of this song
& set it on repeat for a month [& counting]
its the soundtrack to me reciting the events of that night..
& being utterly unsuccessful in finding an answer for why im still even reciting the events of that night: except to frame the moments i captured with you
the solution undeniably always comes down to this:
i was captured by you.

i recall listening to the three girls singing this song
but really only being acutely aware of the way you would watch me curiously.
i remember asking for a hug before i left,
& the way you casually offered, “let’s hug it out” & came out from behind the bar.
you asked around if i was seeing anyone after i left,
which only piqued my interest even more to know it was mutual.

these small,
minute details
insignificant in the greater scheme of things
of things i do not know
& perhaps may never find out

but at least i have this song,
& in my head I paint a picture