22

It’s been 22 days since we last looked at each other. I ask you questions silently.

Do you remember when you asked me if I liked that song you were listening to? Did you hear it on the radio? Were you playing it in your empty beige room? Did you put it on to indulge yourself with thoughts of me, thoughts you shouldn’t have been having? Thoughts about my mouth and the new yours-ness of me, the way I opened to you, the way you’d seen more of me than you ever expected? Do you remember writing ‘I wish I could have spent it with you’? Did I sneak into your attention because you were alone so much? Was I a planned holiday activity? Do you remember?

Even if I am in love with you, all this to say, what’s it to you?

Are you gone forever? Will you be coming back? You are some of the reason I stayed, and yet I find that I am quite able to imagine you existing in this city but not in my life.