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I miss you like something unattained.
A wish for new, yet the wonder and mystery of not knowing.
But you were always like that, weren’t you? Your head in the clouds, and when you stared at everything else in the world, I was stuck staring at your awe, in love with your discovery.
My fingertips smudge an old photograph; a few more pressure points, and I can erase us from those memories for good this time.
There are a million things I want to say to you. But of course, I have left them all unsaid.
How sound separates and our skin becomes sticky from sweat, yet we would love nothing more than to discover the friction against each other.
It doesn’t hurt so much to live.
I am invisible, standing here amongst the worlds.
Is it behind the camera capturing all the fun I wish we were having?
Everything I can’t say out loud, I write to you or make conversation in my head. I try to break ties with this person I intertwined with, not just with words, but with my soul, my body.
I have these dreams where Enzo and I pass by each other; we don’t recognize each other until the last minute.
I’m standing in line at the coffee shop, the place is packed, and my boyfriend sits on the bench behind me. He reaches and rubs behind my knee, letting me know he is there. It is so comforting I forget about the large crowd and the air others are stealing and sucking into their lungs. It feels like a slight sense of heaven.
I blink and let my eyes close quickly. I feel the tender happiness I always wondered if it could be mine. But I found it in the simple steps of a coffee shop, ordering a green tea, waiting for the morning to begin.
My anxiety doesn’t spike; I take in the inventory of the people and put my head back in my book, waiting for our order to come up.
When they call my name, I shift to get around others. But immediately stop when the guy I thought was my boyfriend wasn’t him at all. It was a ghost of the past, someone I could never claim as mine, and yet, I found my eyes wandering all over him, begging for it to be finally true.
“Phoebe.” Even my name on his lips, I squint because it isn’t true. I don’t want to continue existing in this realm where it is possible to bump into him.
Instead of saying his name out loud, we have avoided each other instead of responding with small talk to catch up on the years. I make a decision right there and say no.
The barista calls my name again, and this time, I respond.
In those dreams, you say my name and I wake up; I am taken away from seeing you in love with someone else. With feeling like I am in love with someone else. But what gets me is there is a possibility; it could be the future.
Yet, it hurts too much to consider it might be the only way to move on from you.
NIAGARA FALLS, NY
I can see a sliver of you in all of them.
One plays the guitar, another plays with my hair. It makes me curl into myself, not wanting to let them touch me because they might break me like you did.
My teardrops no longer put out blunts or fill shots of rum half full.
Some men are devious and pour alcohol between my legs to slurp it up and drink me dry.
I let them use my body, so they don’t find my soul.
“I don’t know how to do this; I don’t know how to pretend to be interested in someone I don’t know. I can’t find the perfect way to flirt with weirdos because, honestly, I don’t want to worry about the idea of loving another human being as much as I loved you, Enzo.” I lean over the edge of the wooden railing. Staring at Canada, their side looks the same as our side.
“Do you want me to take your picture?” His name was Chandler; he was shorter, innocent even. But he smiled like he had ideas.
“Um, I don’t know. You don’t need to.” I can’t remember the last time I took a picture with my face.
But that doesn’t matter to him. He gets off work when I leave, and I walk with him to his apartment, next to the bars and eateries bustling with people.
