Is it really possible to love someone?
Are we all just pretending?
What is love?
A feeling in the bones? A moment in time? An action? A person? An altered state of mind?
Walking through the house filled with everyone I have loved busy falling in love with each other. It’s a party. We are together. Thank god we have each other on this dark night. But I am alone tying my shoe laces. You like the way his hair falls in front of his glasses. His body noticing the Cupid bow of your lips for the first time. You look perfect in that black dress. Your eyes meet. These pieces of both of you I’ve loved so long looked at a new. Instant connection. I feel a sense of pride & fear. You both don’t notice me as I slip out the back door. Outside it is cold like a crystal clear prairie night. I see the rest of you sipping wine from mason jars laughing safe in each other’s secrets. What could I say to you that could transcend this moment? Nothing. Anger flushes my face, but I turn it away inwards. It isn’t meant for you, but how did you get so gentle while I am still here wrapped in hazzard tape? You try to stop me, fill my cup, it’s like you can’t feel this cold settling into my bones and rubbing my cheeks red raw. To you it’s another pleasant summers eve in a city that lives by the ocean with no name. It is a time of celebration. Only I shiver on the step. Down the stairs, hands in pockets, through the streets. Restless & reckless climbing between buildings, over fences, through cracks in the polished facades. There is a boy following me, two actually, they are brothers. I’m tired & drunk & I don’t want to talk to you can’t you see that I am so cold? My heart is not full of mirth like yours, my feet are heavy. Hitch my skirt up over the highest balcony. Alone at last. Feed the cat. Take my shoes off hide them under my seat. Feel at home. You come home with the others to the apartment, but I’m serene on my little balcony escape through the glass. Tomorrow we will be on the road again to the next place. The fear in my heart softens a little at the thought. You give me a knowing look on your way to bed. I get comfortable in my strange little uncomfortable corner I’ve chosen for myself. Sleep in a lawn chair. Wake up at four in the morning full of regret.