foreign space - poetry&prose

to louie

it seems like you are my biggest nightmare, my most disastrous horror movie - the horror of the first love. and my biggest fear (and joy) is never getting over you for life.

i always do this. i always think that it's fine that we're friends, in fact it's good that we're friends: i don't know a bad day without knowing some stupid thing you've said to me or some not-so-random song recommendation just to make me happier. i don't have to tell you "i love you" without expecting you to say it back. you never do.

("are you in love with me?" you joke. i bite my tongue like i've been caught.)

i'm not in love with you. i'm really not. and i should never be again, after everything i've done to you. but i do want to know who makes you happier than me.

who is she? is she the girl you met at church, the one i told you to chase? the one we talked about in our last conversation of 2019, before you cut me off for the year and a half i used to convince myself that i didn't need you anymore? the way you didn't need me? 

(but i talk to you everyday now, we laugh about the same things we used to laugh about and we click so well it's hard to believe you don't want to talk to me too. i'm sure you've said before that you want to talk to me too.)

is he different? what kind of life did you have without me?

(under the haze of that one dream where we were in the same place at the same time and i woke up with a sheen of sweat on my forehead realizing you still existed in the crevices of my heart i realized, you once made a keychain with my name on it on your school trip and showed it to your ex-boyfriend. once, very briefly, you were in love with me too.

did you throw away that keychain too?)

i haven't seen you talk about her for months now. the worst parts of me wonder too much. because she makes you so happy it made me content, but where is she now? 

what do i do about this, louie? the only person i'd talk to about this is you.

i have a dream, in the near distant future. i've finally started a band, and i've finally got you tickets to wherever i am, in a bar or a cafe. and i'm singing, and i'm playing guitar, just like i always wanted to, and you walk through the door, finally, with your hair the color you told me you would dye it to, and my heart stops but my hands don't, and there, there, i sing in front of everyone but you know it's just for you, and you're stuck to the floor standing too. and someone realizes but it doesn't quite matter, because all i can see is you.

(i'm finally ready to admit that it's always been you. it will always be you.)