The End

1 February 2016

I believed I had reasons aside from nostalgia. Kept it cunningly concealed. Changing the water in which the beans are soaking. Just add salt. Waking to the sound of the police chopper. How did you learn to believe you would survive your heartbreak. Bedroom painted womb-red. Champagne wishes & real estate dreams. What morning means in your home. First comes love then comes marriage. Never saw the face of the guy behind us who said if you love me you’ll lose weight. Great relief of a day indoors. I am careful not to bump the perpetually sore bone while lifting my feet onto the couch. Like the time we heard gunshots nearby and froze in the hallway with our hands to the walls. An argument on television in the other room. The singer didn’t know yet about the years of darkness ahead. They told me about the sound the tornado made as it razed the neighboring block. Sound of high heels in the hallway. Getting used to the tightness of underused limbs. The pain of a retrospectively blessed moment. Why did I find the YOU MAKE ME postcard so romantic. Cowering in the hall closet. I believed all spaceships sounded the same. Fight or flight. Giving a child an adult name as an optimistic gesture toward the future. The plant has outgrown its pot. The plan is miles behind us. Portrait of the Artist as Overtaxed Slob. The sentences come in small clusters punctuated by periods of waiting. How to multi-task. Excitement of driving to the museum. First meal of the fall cooked in a huge orange pot. Climbing out of the shower I say I told you so silently to myself.

 


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