April, 21, 2008

Tired. The “Upper East Siders” around me are drinking their unnecessary three dollar coffee from Starbucks, while the middle class of Union Square drink their one fifty coffee from the nearest cafe.

We’ve all spread out around the park. Scattered, but merely a few feet away from one another. I can’t help but think he’s probably here, right now. With another pointless attempt to light the sparks and hit it off just like we did.

At night, well no, actually every night I have the memories. I still have the amazingly painful flashbacks of us. Sometimes I can’t help but wonder, what if, somehow, we had stuck together. Made it past all the bulls***. You and I. Where would we be? Still endlessly fighting our difference of opinion? Or cuddled up on the couch watching the Sunday night movie? Would there finally be…. bliss? I searched for it my whole life and yet, somehow, I could never find it. Happiness between us sounded more fictitious as the late night arguments continued. And after a long goddamn time of being miserable, I talked myself into ending it. But that was five years ago.

I’ve dated 27 guys since and after the second I realized he wasn’t you. But I always keep trying. Encouraging myself to get over “the jerk.” We haven’t spoken in over several years. You’ve never sent a happy birthday or happy holiday’s card. Two years ago I called your house to hear your voice, but a woman picked up the phone. Then I remembered why I couldn’t stand dating you. You were the biggest flirt I’d ever seen. Most of the time you were doing anything you could to annoy the s*** out of me. And most the time you were successful.

Do you miss me at all? Even a little bit? Why did a woman pick up when I called? I wasn’t calling for her. For you. To just hear your voice, the sound of it. It would have filled me up for the rest of the month. I never run into you since we broke up. So I can’t say “it’s a small world”. But I mean if you’ve been avoiding me for five years, you’ve done a damn a good job. I truly hope that’s not the case. Right now who are you? Still the same stubborn, kind guy I used to kiss before I walked out the door? Or have you changed drastically for better or worse? That’s what I wonder. They might be simple questions but I will never have the answers to them. Only you would know how to answer them the “right way”…so that I couldn’t resist smiling.

Dreams, they’re a funny thing. You know, I’ve had dreams about you. When we went ice skating and how I fell. And you kissed me countless times as I made my way to getting up. Were the kisses real? What was the point? In the end we broke up. But in the middle of the night, I wake up with my lips moist and moving, as if I was kissing you. My hands are held high, like I’m holding your face. But I open my eyes and you’re gone. I sigh. My eyes look around the room and my hands fall to my sides “Why does this happen?” “I am over you.” I say this barely whispering. Trying to reassure myself, though it never seems to work. So here I am, needing you Jack…