I Know There Is Dial Tone On The Other End, But I’m Speaking Anyways.

I’ll have you know, I don’t shake when I speak your name and I have boxed all of your pictures away. I have stopped wondering where you are, most of the time. I pretended not to notice your birthday had just passed. It is almost Christmas. There is snow on the ground, just a little.

You look great. how are the birds? Is your liver holding up ok. (and if i’m bold enough) your heart? you’ve grown, I see. Well, I meant was the hair on your face is longer, the bags under your eyes are heavier, your eyes themselves seem a little darker too. I suppose that’s none of my business though. Do you still work two jobs? Are you passing your classes. Does your mom ask about me? Does it still bug you when you pass that salon? It bugs me now, for a different reason. Probably because I remember that conversation so clearly.

I can’t stand the taste of Chinese food anymore. I mean, I never could, it always gave me a stomach ache, you know. But now, to be quite honest it just makes me wish for you. Isn’t that funny though? Something I hated when we were together is what makes me miss you. I guess a lot of our relationship was like that.

I feel so small now. There are so many things we have done together that I do alone now. Or worse, with someone else. I passed Hero’s Tunnel the other day, without our music blasting on high, without the obnoxious yelling between us and I just wanted to stop and turn back in the middle of the parkway. I made a wish under the amber lights and I pray to God He protects me from what I want.

There are too many fragments of you. Broken bits everywhere. I want to pick up every piece, throw my knees on the floor and mop up every sliver with my hands, even if that means cutting myself open wide.

But that’s crazy. that’s crazy.


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