CHRYSALIS

40. Part Three.

April 3rd, 2021

I called my therapist today and she suggested I start writing again. She told me I should write out all the things I want to say to you but won't. I don't even know how to approach that, It's so much. I wrote some lyrics on the plane and they were about you. All the lyrics I've written since December have been about you. There are a lot of happy ones, but the saddest ones are my favorite right now. They feel comfortable right now, whereas the happy ones sting. The happy ones bring me your laughter though, and your smile where the crinkles show up in your cheeks. They bring me the scent of your hair on my pillow and the scent of my soap on your skin. I wrote lyrics about the way your skin feels under mine and the way my name sounds on your mouth. I wrote lyrics about the way it felt to wake up next to you, and the way it felt to wake up alone.

I wrote lyrics about being in love with you.

And now I'm just not exactly sure what to do about it.

I stayed at a hotel in New York last night. I didn't call you, I didn't text. I didn't tell anyone. I just stayed in this city, your city now, and I hoped I could feel you a little bit but I don't think you've rubbed off on it yet.

Then I flew here, back to LA. Back to this house that doesn't feel like it's mine anymore. I hated it so much I called my therapist.

And now I'm here, writing, and thinking about you.

-H.

April 14th, 2021.

I spoke with you today.

It was quick, you were getting ready for a job interview. My chest hurt as I imagined what you looked like fluttering around your new apartment.

You get a bit pissy when your anxiety kicks in so you were kind of snappy on the phone, but I didn't mind. I pictured you in your favorite bra and pants set, that light blue one with the mesh panels in it. You like it because it makes you feel like you've "got your shit together."

I pictured you in that and a pair of trousers, hair down with your bangs sleek and shiny. I imagined you'd thrown half your closet onto your bed trying to find the one shirt that was in the laundry anyway, and you didn't bother to put the clothes away. I could hear you talking with your head turned away from the phone, I knew you were putting in earrings. I imagined you listening to me talk a bit while you fussed with whatever top you decided on, but tuning me out for the most part.

It made me smile when I heard you fall over while you put on your shoe. I don't know when you'll learn to sit down to put them on, but I kind of hope you never do.

I listened to you talking about how pretty it was there and how you rode the subway alone, without Dante, for the first time last week. You told me that there is a deli near you that makes very good sandwiches and you're hoping that the grouchy man who owns it starts to like you soon.

I smiled as you talked excitedly about seeing times square and how the city feels at night, and how you've never been more scared or energized in your life.

I didn't tell you, but I still talk to Frankie. I chat with him regularly just because he's the only one that understands a sliver of what I'm feeling. Happy that you're happy, but a little empty without you.

I didn't expect you to fill up my life so much in such a short time. It doesn't feel short to me, but it's only been six months. I've only known you for six and a half months and I already feel the loss of you this heavily.