Divided Unity

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My love,

I met you in the darkest time of my life.

Our first real conversation was comparing our home cities of Detroit and Chicago's crime rates.

We were complete strangers when we played that game til' 7 in the morning on that one Sunday.

Your photo from when you just got out of the shower kept drawing me back to it, even now.

The months went by, you were mine and I was yours from that Valentine's day onward.

You bought a bus ticket to Detroit to see me for my birthday in December.

I remember stepping out of the car and running up to you when you stepped out of the hostel in Hamtramck.

I fought back tears when I hugged you, I tried to keep a stable voice when you hugged me back.

Of course, I'll never forget those dry lips when they kissed my cheek.

The way we held hands watching a movie.

But I'll forget that Christmas, and the hell that happened when I came back home.

I won't forget how the years went by.

We split up in the next March, when one of your exes came back.

Then we got back together.

Your ex and I became quite good friends, we were very similar-minded and I pondered flying her from California to here.

Summer continued, and I got a job.

Then the time between late August and the very last day of September were a blur.

The last day of September was spent weeping on my bed.

And I wept until the end of November.

You came back to me then.

We celebrated my birthday.

And a reluctant Christmas.

And even another New Year.

But then this January became a blur too.

And on what would have been a two-year anniversary, I blocked you for the first time.

You crawled back to me on an account we both forgot you had two days later.

You blamed your words on everything you were using to try and forget about me.

We got back together, again.

Until April, when you said you didn't see anything between us anymore.

I closed our DM lacking a sense of my dignity.

I refrained the urge to crawl back to you and seal whatever dignity I had left away for good.

The more I spoke with friends, the more I realized what I wanted when I finally came up to you and told you about the hellish home life I was leading.

So I wanted to set it up.

I put a date in my name.

And you noticed.

You swallowed your Leonine pride and admitted you wanted to try again.

And I didn't even say a word about it.

I was in the process of trying to move on in peace.

But I saw how much it pained you, because I know you well enough to know how hard it is to admit that you wanted to try.

That was June the fourth.

Ten days before what I was planning.

We lingered in that limbo for a couple of weeks, still hardly talking while we figured out how to refrain from the same mistakes as before.

It's been 25 days since you noticed my name change.

The red heart emojis are back again.

Let's not mess this up again.

Let's make it work this time, shall we, bunny?

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