Different Now

Thnks Fr Th Mmrs

I kissed her for the first time in a dirty parking lot, wearing ratty vans and and a sweatshirt. She hands shook, and so did mine. I watched her walk away that evening and couldn't help but perform a victory dance after.

Our hands were magnets when I saw her again. We interlaced fingers and everything felt perfect, untouchable, unbreakable. Sunlight danced off her hair and echoed in her laughter. I went to bed grinning.

I taught her to waltz. We stood in a park, smiling and shy. Soothing guitar and lyrics we both knew fold us together, perfectly content. It ends too soon, and I later tip the busker a twenty. 

She sat curled into my side, hardly watching the screen. I laughed and comforted her, pretending the scary parts were over. I always chose horror movies because she wouldn't leave my side, and I enjoyed it. 

We ran through the streets, laughing and celebrating. Color rained down on all sides and she never looked prettier. People danced and sung all around us but all I could hear was her. I pulled her into a hug and asked her, "Do you like my home?" She hugged me back tighter and nodded.

We stood in Times Square one night, surrounded by people. As the new year began, I pulled her close and kissed her. I felt her smile against my lips, and heard her whisper, "Happy New Year." And I smiled and watched the fireworks dance in her eyes. 

She jumped and laughed at a concert. It was her favorite band, so I did my best to find tickets. She screamed and looked as happy as she did standing in front of the stage. They weren't my favorite band, but she was happy so I was content.

I surprised her on her birthday. There was a big party, with all our friends. I didn't invite mine because she didn't like them, but it was her day so it didn't matter. She looked happy but as the confetti fell, I saw irritation behind her eyes. I spent the night trying to cheer her up.

"You're wrong", she would say. "You don't understand." We yelled and we fought but we always came back. I asked her one night, "why do we fight?" She responded, "Because that is all we know."

I sleep alone. There is a space that should be full, but isn't. I toss and turn and toss some more. I cannot sleep. I get up and write. I still cannot sleep. I cry. I still cannot sleep.

She leaves my apartment one final time. She does not look back, no matter how hard I wish she would. I slowly pack our items, and push them into the back of my closet. I don't want to see them, because I am afraid of what they mean. 

Today I come home drunk. I am alone in my apartment. As I stumble through my apartment with my friend Jack Daniels, I remember what might have been. I make my way to my closet and open my closet. I throw winter coats and gym gear out of my way and find a small, brown box. Unmarked with no defining characteristics, but I know what it was. I put down the bottle and grab it with both hands. I pull out notebooks. And pictures. And gifts, and much more. I lay them out on my bedroom floor around me, until the box is completely empty. I have done this once before; I cried so hard and couldn't stop. But now I laugh. I smile at the Polaroids and chuckle at the pickup lines. 

I start to laugh. I cannot stop. I laugh harder and harder until tears are streaming from my eyes and my stomach begins to ache. I haven't laughed so hard since her. 

I laugh and I laugh and I laugh.