Day 5

I wish you well and I hope you find whatever you are looking for.
This is the problem with being me, having said goodbye to too many people.

I spent mornings waking up with an ache in my heart a cavity in my chest. I spent hours floating around in a bath tub with the water in my ears so I can't hear the sounds of my breaking heart. I spent time wrapped up in my blanket sobbing. I spent time running my fingers over your photograph. I re-read our movie ticket stubs. I read our text messages, our Facebook messages. I held my own hand in sleepless night convincing myself it was yours, the way your fingers slipped perfectly into the spaces between my fingers. Like a warm, warm glove.

I remembered how you used to sneak up on me whenever I was waiting for you to pick me up. Your Cheshire grin when I reacted in shock. I've always wondered how'd you manage to walk so quietly in that ugly white canvas shoes. When you drove me around on your little bronze scooter, you'd cup my hand when the traffic light turns red. We'd play thumb wrestling and you'd always let me win. When I complained about the old helmet being ill-fitting, you immediately went out and bought a new one the next day. And even contemplated getting a Hello Kitty one just because I liked Hello Kitty.

Remember how I sat on your wallet and refused to let you pay? I remember. You sheepishly thanked me and promised to pay me back but I said no, love doesn't work that way and smiled. I liked the way you touched my face, when we kiss. Your finger tips, grazing my jawline. We would lie in the field of grass at the park, and I would tell you stories about the clouds. We would chain smoke together and chastise each other for procrastinating "quitting". Then I'll pinch your belly and watch you squirm in delight. Sometimes I bite your cheeks because they're fleshy like IKEA's meatballs. You would pinch my love handles back and I will proceed to swat your nose. Of course, you will roll over and nip my nose. You said it was juicy and chewy. Ummm ok you flipping cannibal! I remembered how you once looked so intensely into my eyes... then announced I had a pimple that required popping. And however unwilling, I let you do it. You were so satisfied when you got that little sucker out.

When you sent me home, you would take off your helmet so you could hug me properly. Then you will kiss my forehead, then my lips, and remind me to sleep early. I remember the warmth of your strong arms around me, the faint smell of cologne. You always wore plaid shirts or striped polo tees. So you have the fashion sense of a 5 year old but it doesn't matter. So your hair texture is reminiscent of weed (maybe that's why you shaved it all off) but I liked it. I like the way you just let it be. I hate your baldness and that awkward mohawk, by the way. But I didn't say anything because I knew you were satisfied with your change.

I can't accept that our story doesn't have a good ending. I don't want to accept this as an ending. I don't care even if we don't go anywhere. I enjoyed wasting time with you.

But when you said those words you took the blood back with you and my heart's all cold again. Part of me wants to cut you out of my life and live fine without you, a part of me believes in a future with you.
I'm lost. I don't know what to do.

Until I see you again on Sunday, I'm okay without you. Until your touch, until I see your smile again. You are the reason why I believed in life and God again.

Please... don't make me. Don't make me say goodbye again. I don't want to. I can't bear to, especially to you.