the hunger comes in waves, these days.

i’m sitting in the dim of my bedroom, exhaling loudly- it’s been too quiet. my heart’s been elsewhere, everywhere, nowhere. i’m aching for lovers passed and moments gone. i’m romanticizing and agonizing. i’m meeting people. i’m crushing on everything with legs. i’m drinking four cups of coffee and dreaming of hot air and vans sneakers without socks on. i’m not sad, i’m angry. i’ve been incredibly angry for days, and weeks, and months. i’m sleeping like shit, and i’m eating like i give a shit. i’m drinking wine on sundays and mondays and most of the days that end in Y. i’m distracted and distant and i’ve forgotten how to cry. i guess that’s part of my pattern, though. feeling too much, or not feeling a thing. teetering between numb and alive. forgetting where i stand, half of the time.

i’ve been sleeping naked. my teeth chatter in the dark and i rub my own arms and legs for comfort. i miss sharing a bed- all limbs & blankets & sweat. the grease in our hair and the cracks of our winter lips when we kiss at six in the morning. the curve of your spine and your hands hanging loose, draped over me like skeletons. my frozen little toes searching for the bend in your knee- my mouth on the nape of your neck. the way i’d stare at the ceiling and roll over to see you watching me, quietly. “good morning”, you’d whisper, and i’d pull the blankets over my head, as your fingers reached for my ribs.

i miss you all wrong.

i miss everything. mornings, specifically. shitty coffee & comfortable silence, mostly. naked legs and over-sized t-shirts. the smell of you on the stretched collar. the way you’d chew on your lip or how you’d rub my feet, without even noticing. the way you’d remind me you love me. the way you still do. the way i know you always will.

i’d get home late and you’d be sitting on the side of the tub, running my bath water. running our bath water. i’d hug my naked knees, and rest my chin on them as you’d rub my back. i’d close my eyes and you’d kiss my shoulders, softly. i knew it was over, then. i knew i had to leave you, and i knew you had to go home to her. these things can’t last forever, and i know that.

we’re better than this, but this was bigger than us. i’m a smart, accomplished woman. but there have been times in my life where there was no reason. you were the answer i’d been searching for, and dreaming of, and i’d fallen head over heels stupid for you and your complete sentences. for your proper use of your and you’re. i fell for the way your tongue would slide over your teeth when you spoke in metaphor. i fell for the light in your eyes and the way you’d lace up your boots, or how your pants would hang on your hip bones. the way your hands trembled when i walked into the room; the way my heart pounded against my ribs. the way you’d breathe me in when you’d rest your face on my collarbone. the unhealthy amount of coffee you drank before noon. the wrinkles beside your tired eyes, and the rose in your flushed cheeks when i’d kiss your forehead before leaving, in the morning.

i’m not sorry.

i was never once sorry for the way i loved you. for the way my limbs would fold into yours between my messy sheets. for the way i needed to hear your voice and see your face and kiss your lips every single day. i think it’s important to live that kind of selfish desperation for someone. to give in, and to need each other the way we did. i needed your voice on the other end of the line, and your fingers between mine. we skipped the honeymoon phase, and the dates, and went straight to chinese food on sundays and sleeping with the tv on. i’d known you five days when you told me you’d fallen in love with me.

i see your name flash up on my phone, sometimes… and i can sense your words are nervous. they’re uncertain and scared- like we are, now. i never know what to do; how to swallow the lump in my throat, how to fight the tears in my eyes.

but i’ve moved on, of course, and so have you.

i mean… you wear a wedding band now, whatever that means.


3 thoughts on “the hunger comes in waves, these days.

  1. Ugh.

    I always hope I’ll see a post from you pop up when I have a moment to open my RSS reader. Whenever it does you never disappoint. My god you, my dear, have exactly the way with words I always wished I did.

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