Young Lover

This morning I took the last three lingering boxes of the ex-GFs stuff to her last known address. I had been waiting for months to get rid of those boxes that had stared me from the kitchen. Waited for months for her to arrange to come get them. Waited for months on her.

I hate break ups, and of these, I have had my fair share. Some where I was angrier in the aftermath than I am now. Some where I was sadder in the aftermath than I had been this time. But none with someone I legitimately loved as much as I loved her.

I can talk about my feelings with the dispassion of a coroner – dissecting them with logic, weighing them each individually in a stainless steel tray, placing them aside, like-with-like. I resort to gallows humor as I sit patiently knowing that I have been here before, and I will be here again.

I spent so long waiting in that relationship. Waiting for her to figure out what was wrong. Waiting for her to tell me what I even meant to her. Every unanswered, “I love you,” an erosion. Every read receipt on a text she didn’t think it was important to answer a knick. Every time she turned away from a kiss or limply held my hand or didn’t return an affection, a decay. So many diminishments until my self respect screamed up from the pit where I had buried it in my starvation to stop waiting already because I deserve better than this.

Did she love me? I don’t know. I used to think so. I don’t think so anymore.

Does it matter?

It will until it doesn’t anymore.

I’ve got St. Vincent tickets tonight and poetry until then.

“Someone can be madly in love with you and still not be ready. They can love you in a way you have never been loved and still not join you on the bridge. And whatever their reasons you must leave. Because you never ever have to inspire anyone to meet you on the bridge. You never ever have to convince someone to do the work to be ready. There is more extraordinary love, more love that you have never seen, out here in this wide and wild universe. And there is the love that will be ready.”

– Nayyirah Waheed

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