“Chasing sunsets has always been a habit,” you had one hand on the front door knob, but was hesitating a response.
“I labeled your lunches for the week in the fridge. It doesn’t matter what day you take what, but don’t let the chicken broth sit too long. remember what happened last time?”
I drew a pause into my lungs to reflect on the smell I could still taste on my nose. A growing smile momentarily crippled my stance. “Not everyone leaves, you know,” I said catching my bearings. “It’s about finding the moments worth revisiting. How long has it been now?”
The door closed softly on your heel, as I wondered how long being alone would feel like a script I couldn’t stop reading.
Something white by your pillow when you woke, it had corners but it didn’t
have to be paper. “I told you the bad about me so you’d know from the start,” it began.
You sighed because we’d been through this. But you made a little smile to go with the sigh and went on, “There’s a spot in your mind, or places I have taken residence and it is less about staying than about lighting up those parts of you over and over until you associate me with what makes you happy.
"I eat and drink when I’m alone but with you I could do without it, with you I see each staggered line and all I want to do is take your early pain and rinse it with the sea, lathered under the sun.
"Because even if you dream of love and put with it another face, I would aim the tides to shift your sails, even if my own face receded from your memory because I would do anything to give you a new pain, something different, anything than what he left you.
Yes, I love someone else. And isn’t
that grand? It’s wonderful and I enjoy the way it sears into my flesh when I think of your skin on it and could care less for the touch than the thought of you by my side. I go through it every day and I accept that. Because you could never be shared, never be anyone’s other than what they revolved around, and you have me in some fucked up orbit of my own making that I can’t let go of. And all I see is good and it’s you.
"The handwriting here is not the best but I digress. The chicken broth was wonderful, since I supposed I should get that first and when I woke early this morning, kneeling in the pew, all I could think of was kneeling, biting at your knees and asking if you wanted me.
"But I won’t leave, not if you said no and not if you didn’t want me to and I hope you rested a bit better last night.”