standing in my kitchen at 12:11 in the morning
eating frost bitten ice cream in my neon pink underwear
staring at the coffee stains that plague my cream white counters
and thinking about christmas and how fast it passed this year
no, really i’m thinking about you
and how if you were still mine, we’d be on the phone right now
or even better, i wouldn’t be staring at the coffee stains on my counter,
because i’d be curled up in your arms, listening to your breathing
and thinking about all the reasons i love you so much
or we’d be out driving around, eating chicfila or tacos from that place we loved
you’d be telling me about a movie you just watched
and your hand would probably be on my thigh
you’d make fun of the way i hold the steering wheel,
and i’d tell you that you can talk when you finally learn to drive
and we’d stop somewhere
and i’d kiss you on the cheek
but i can’t imagine a time when things weren’t bad, so in this scenario
i’d also be thinking about all of my insecurities
but you would see it on my face
and you’d say “hey,
i love you, and there’s no ‘but’s or ‘anyway’s”
and i’d probably work less
so i’d have more time to spend with you
i’d deal with the smaller paychecks by loving you instead
but you’d probably work with me too, and i’d give you rides to and from
and i’d love that we shared something like that together
because of the places from where we both grew up
you always told me you loved shopping together
because it made us feel so real
and like we had our own house, with a big bed and a dog
and a garage full of cars, and a garden to grow from
but the reality hit too soon
we couldn’t handle the stress of it all
and i guess we tried to work it out, but on cue
i realized nothing is really ‘meant to be’
so here i am
now at 12:23 am
eating frost bitten orange sherbet
and crying thinking of all the things that i just said
wishing you were the one i was saying them to.
