On the long days, I am working
Until midnight and my feet are threatening suicide,
And you are leaning by our tile countertop,
Eating a Gala apple and smirking at me.

On the weekends, you are on the computer
Writing documents and doing taxes,
Taking care of all the stuff I could never learn in high school,
And I kiss you on the neck and place a cold Coke in the palm of your hand.

In the middle of the night, you wake up, sticky from sweat
And you tell me about your nightmare,
And although I wasn’t even dreaming,
I say that I was having one too,
And we watch cartoons until the sun rises.

When your mother dies, I drop everything
I rush home, to see you crying on the carpet,
And I curl around you and rub your arms,
Offering you tea because it warms the heart up.

On some days, you’re scared,
About the future, about our future,
About the universe, and death,
And I’m terrified,
So scared I can’t speak,
But I kiss you with salty lips,
And I promise we will survive the obstacles life throws at us.

On one night, you threw something at me,
Not an obstacle, not a fear, not news of a dead relative,
But a dinner plate.
And I picked up the pieces that had shattered against our tile countertop,
And I walk out of the room, terrified again.

On the first sunny day of spring, we’re eating brunch
At this little café you’ve been dying to try,
And although we’d been trying for three years,
We have no family. We still have fights.

On that day, I’m swallowing the lump of tears with iced tea,
And I suggest divorce.

Although I was in love with you for five years,
The worst is, I still am.