Say Anything

Please be John Cusack

Standing below my window

Boombox at the ready

Peter Gabriel serenading me:

“In Your Eyes”

In your eyes.
I saw hope,

I saw endless possibilities,

I saw long nights,

late drives, 

and myself resurrected back to life.

And at first, I reveled in it.

And I elude to that night

to August 28th, 

like my life depended on it.

And my new life,

my without-you life

did

does

do.

But you see,

I wanna know what you saw in my eyes.

Trust.

Love.

Fear.

I wander around aimlessly sometimes,

thinking in circles that lead me back to you.

It’s pretty pathetic, actually,

going to places you used to be,

like The Rec,

stepping in of my own accord,

popping my head up to check

if every time someone came in it would be you.

But it never was,

and I sat in solace,

taking in the 80’s music

just because.

(And honestly Profs wasn’t open).

Every time I think I’ll see you,

every text you don’t reply to,

hits me straight like a sucker punch.

Every lie that I had clung to,

Every “why” I didn’t ask you,

still haunts me,

like bad deja vu.

And if the truth is to be told,

my God is saving me from the hurt

that befalls me when I do see

you,

doesn’t matter if it’s only 

five minutes of your time,

because in those five minutes you were “mine”

and I am left for another month,

learning how to fall out of love with you again.

Again, 

we go through this pattern again,

and again.

I obsess over boys like you,

again

and again. 

And I’m scared,

because I don’t know if I’m falling

or fictionalizing someone

in your place

to pick up pieces that you left scattered.

I never asked you to leave her.

I told you you’d be stupid if you did.

But that does not constitute LEAVING me.

Not loving me,

because I reminded you of the past-lover that tore you apart.

Look me in the eye and tell me how I tore you apart.

Tell me how I sucked your soul out with my lips,

and my touch made you feel as if you were possessed.

I held your hand,

you held my waist,

in an embrace,

you got into your car and we were still connected.

When did I start scaring you?

When did I become too much for you?

When and where was it that my face appeared in your mind,

my name at the tip of your tongue,

and you realized I actually had a LAST name?

Is this too blatant?
Is it too obvious?

I spent the greatest six hours of my life 

with a boy who I had barely known,

who made me feel different,

and special,

and cared for.

Who could drive with a one hand grip on the steering wheel,

but his eyes penetrating into my shaking and hollowed out soul.

I told you about Bryce.

We got iced coffee and you offered to drink mine when I refused to put in any cream or sugar,

though you hated caramel.

I’ll never hear you say you loved me.

To be honest, I don’t know if you did.

But I took her place, 

for a good four weeks;

you didn’t seem to mind that I was some kid.

That every time you flirted back, you’d pat my head,

ruffle my hair,

and call me the sister you never had. 

I wouldn’t have told her,

this entity of who you choose to call yours truly.

She’s befitting for you,

in ways,

and actions

that I will never be,

or able to meet.

Is she your other half?

Is she your destiny?

Your department was almost on fire.

Say something.

My great uncle, my pop-pop’s brother, is dying.

Say something.

I love you.

Say something.

“You know I don’t think you cheapen it.”

“I know.”

“You just gotta remember I’ve heard it before.”

“And you just gotta know, I’m not her.”

You are out of my life now.

For now,

Because if you were to someday

somehow

some way come back,

I would blindly take you,

take the hurt that follows in the wake of you,

if only to burn up to ash under your touch

by tomorrow morning.

If you are reading this,

if you have read the rest,

if you wonder about me,

think of me,

dream of me,

if you freaking miss me…

Why don’t you say

anything?

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