one month anniversary

any shitty little tip-off would do, but much like the last half-year i am faced with sorting things out on my own. i map them out on my bedroom ceiling every few nights, the cracks in the plaster a roadmap of where we started, where we finished.

i'm saying good-bye to you now. right here. not you-you, but the boy i knew that night. i'm 30 days far behind but i wasn't going to give up without a fight. you shouldn't have expected any less from me.

i had to keep looking. i went into my corner and shut my eyes, counted to 100 and when i was finished i shouted that whether you ready or not, here i come. whether you were ready or not, i was coming after you, but you disappeared. even after i sent you a message that i'd lost you, i knew you weren't coming out from your hiding spot.

i have so many unanswered questions, but i decided tonight on the subway that i had to just bury them somewhere inside me until they starved to death. i don't know what else to do anymore, and really, what stops me from killing myself with these rhetorical questions is the notion that this is the last possible thing you're thinking about. you're not wondering which one of us is the bigger jerk-off. the bigger pussy.

it doesn't matter where i am. a good 12 seconds after my alarm clock goes off. every time i look at the bracelets on my wrist. the reflection looking back at me in the mirror. that instant where i lick my lips after somebody else kisses me deeply. when my phone is ringing, and it's not you. when my phone's not ringing, and it is you. the first few seconds i walk into a club, looking for you. walking up the steps to my apartment building, and stopping abruptly to sit down in a heap and smoke a cigarette before i go inside. up and down the rows of the record store, the haunting sad and slow piano on the first track of a sufjan stevens cd that i bought that doesn't even remotely remind me of you, and it's you, you're right there you're always standing in my way and you won't move.

tonight i was on a subway platform, waiting for the E train. a tight embrace lingered around my body but i shivered in the heat of the station, and a musicians voice wafted through the underground singing a bob dyaln song like an answer to my prayers. no no no it ain't me babe, it ain't me your looking for babe. it never was.

i tried to write this at 6:30 this morning when i woke up cold, teeth chattering in my big bed. i tried to write this all day. mentally scribbling and scratching things out in my mind. i wanted it to be perfect because i told myself this was it. this is the last time i am going to write about you, think about you, ask about you, dream about you. this is the last time i am going to write about you. i'll repeat that as long as i have to, an affirmation, until it's the truth.

these typed words still aren't enough. they don't say it just how i feel it.


and what if you were to find this now, and read this?


i'm not looking for you anymore.