Do I Want To Go Back?

Not a poem. I'm in a pool of bittersweet heartache and I needed to say these words.

I remember what things felt like when we met. We would sit in the sun room of your trailer, and a little later on we would be on the futon that we built at an obscenely late time on a Saturday night. When we started hanging out, your mom told me how you play ukelele, and I thought that that was cool because I play guitar. I was excited to meet another musician (and look at you now -- you play guitar and you do it a thousand times better than I do).

I will admit that I didn't like your voice at first. But I liked to sit there and watch you read from your printed-out pages of chords. And I enjoyed the day when you taught me how to play some of them, even if I didn't know most of the songs you had printed. And I liked when we would go to your grandparents' trailer so you could get a Coke and then climb up that hill to the spot with the precarious edge (I know it isn't that high up but it's super steep and you shouldn't jump from places like that), and it was especially nice on the nights when you brought your ukulele and played while we sat on the edge. I wish you had done that more often. I know that you were worried about ruining your ukulele, though.

I like to think about the times when we were both exhausted out of our minds, when everything was funny and I had this haze of bliss in my head. There was something you said that struck me so hard that I begged you for a shred of paper to write it down. You handed me a notebook. I wrote down what you said, tore the paper out and put it in my pocket, and then drew you a little dinosaur in your book. I can't remember if you ever found it. I hope you did. I still have that paper, although I haven't used what you said in any of my writing yet.

I remember when you got me into watching your favourite show, and how we would lie down together because it was late and we were tired. I promised myself that I wouldn't fall for you, no matter how nice it felt to bury my head in your chest. There was one night when I was doing that and you looked down at me and said "You're not even watching the show."

My heart might have skipped a few beats there. But I told myself it was nothing. And it was nothing, for a while. Wonderful, beautiful nothing. The nights we spent hanging out and watching tv and listening to your music and walking outside are my dearest memories. I am almost tearing up right now, thinking about them.

And now, after all that time, I am in love with you.

Reviews

[Julie McCarthy (juliesp..]

Wow I just woke up and came to your beautiful flowing romantic trail of words all linked haphazardly beautifully oh I love this
Thanks
It reminded me of a time in my twenties or pre twenties so simply wonderful
Thank you for the share

[Kin]

Thank you so much for taking the time to read my little burst of emotion. It means a lot to know that someone enjoyed it.