The Math of You and Me
Everyday I come home and I mentally recount the ways you were wrong for me. The ways we were wrong for each other. The way I was wrong for you. And I try to do the math. It doesn't add up. It never adds up. Where did we really drop the ball? Was it because I did not know you enough? Was it because I had a hunch? Or was it repetition compulsion? I am distracting myself the best way I can. I am all over the place. Restless. Literally restless. I go back and forth. I want to write, but then I can't. I want to dance, but then I remember. I want to organize the mess, but then I am tired. I float around. Maybe like a ghost. No heart. No flash. No pain. I float around, scattered cloud. Massive cloud without direction. Trying to regroup. Trying to organize the house. Trying to be the house. The house of drying roses that still have a scent. You The cool guy Me The awkward girl Such disparage The dates are going to start repeating themselves. Our first anniversary. Th...