on to my fifth heartbreaker

i had heartbreaker #4 and heartbreaker #5 hold my heart in their palms and leave it behind in their pockets to wash. but heartbreaker #4 is a story for another day.

heartbreaker #5 texts me when he is down or when he is in need of support and i know that he does this but i am so weak when he croons my name on the keyboard, saccharine sweet like how i like my romance. he simpers, he begs, he sends me smiley faces and he punctuates his texts with casual concern and titillating trills about his day like he knows. with friendship lingering on the tip of my tongue, i give him my hand, my heart and my bank account.

heartbreaker #5 is surrounded by his multitude of friends, each congratulating him and thumping him on the back, raucous yells of i’m so proud of you! and i suddenly feel inferior in my dumpy school skirt when i look at his gang, all slicked back hair and shapely almond eyes. my market florist flowers, arranged by the kind old auntie who didn’t have the right bouquet wrapping stands limply beside the lush boxes of roses in colors of the sunset that make his dimpled grin even more ethereal.

heartbreaker #5 smiles at me when i stumble over my congratulations and fumble around awkwardly, going in for a half hug half handshake. he pulls back, snakes his arm around me and pulls me in for a hug. when it is over i realize i am shaking, but i will my voice to be even and ask for a picture, together. his teeth is on full display as his eyes crinkle sympathetically. he rejects me.

i say it’s okay and avoid the lingering glances of pity sent my way.

heartbreaker #5 makes me feel like a charity case, like every smile he bestows upon me is a donation of his rich charms for a girl too poor of them. he makes me feel used, like i am his twenty third choice pick that he only remembers as the girl he knows is willing to do anything for him because she thinks that they have friendship between them. it feels stupid to say it now but i felt happy and safe in his arms, his hands holding me close against his chest with my cheek pressed against his neck. for a moment i we were one, but he drew back and the illusion was gone. i still feel the ghost of his breath tickling my face.

heartbreaker #5 texts me when i reached home twenty five minutes before midnight, my chest eerily heavy but also so empty.  he calls me by name and i remember how my name slips off his tongue, easy the way i am to him. this goodnight text comes after i tried not to burst into tears on the streets and i want to tell him that i didn’t enjoy myself, but i didn’t have the heart to.

 

_

love doesn’t make you blind: desperation does 

i don’t want you to love me: i want you to want to love me

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i keep us in my wallet (not my mind)

  • these are grainy moments burned into pixels: your laugh, brilliant as i steal a glance; my face, blemished but radiant, even as my hair falls over my face; our nights, your fingers curled loosely around mine, my lips on your shoulder. these are our souls burned and made tangible, lying solidly against my crinkled bedsheets when they slip out of of my treasure trove. but why is it that i cannot remember what exactly we were? these are grainy moments, not in my mind: your laugh, muted; my face, blurred; our nights, ebbed.

 

this love is why i live

this was just like every other camp: the-night-before-anxiety hit me full on like twenty textbooks, i dragged myself and tried to cheer up, butter cup, made one friend, changed my mind about how god awful this was supposed to be, fell in love with the warmth of everyone, blinked back the tears when the goodbyes came, and made my way home.

this is just like every other camp: the people were so different from the last, but i loved them anyway. i loved the way we’d have our nightly feasts, calories be damned. i loved the ways we’d play cat and mouse, bated breaths and flushed cheeks pressed against closet doors when someone was rapping, rapping at our chamber door. i loved the way we’d banter with one another, exasperated laughter and poker faces meeting the most awful jokes ever. i loved the way we’d have each other’s back, you telling me to sleep even if i hadn’t done enough, or the way we’d give our all even if exhaustion made itself home on our eyelids.

this might just be like every other camp, when we drift apart because we’re all so busy, and live across the country from each other. maybe your faces will start to blur a little in my mind and maybe your names won’t curl as comfortably around my tongue, but this is enough. you made me happy these for days, and i don’t think i’ll forget the taste of this love on my tongue, not ever.

it made me want to live, even if just for a while. and i’m thankful enough.

_

babes, this love will never end: my heart will always love you

 

inside my heart (a wind called you)

yesterday i loved you for the way your body grooved to the beat, lithe and steady and so goddamn alluring. your body cut the daintiest silhouettes against the bright lights and i wanted more of the way your hips pushed forward, gaze burning on me like a fire licking up my body, primal but intimate. i lusted for your attention, dreamed of being your close binary star so i could chase after your lips.

today i love you for the way your eyes crinkle when they’re tired and the way you look at everything like they mean the world. when you cradle a book in your arm my heart skips a beat because i never knew that this is what it means to love. love is embracing a book for the tune it hums and not for the name of its composer nor the suit it wears. when your fingers curl quietly around the plants you grow in your garden, the seedlings in my heart are sprouting. it’s enough watching you love, even if i’m not the object of your affection. i’m content with loving a soul as beautiful as yours.

tomorrow i will still love you. i don’t know exactly how i will do that, but i do know that my heart will always burst when i watch the way your lips quirk or the way your voice is a purr when you mumble through the haze of sleep. you are lighthouses beaming in the dark when the sea whirls up its pointed pines and i know that i will dock safely when i follow your trail. you do you, babe, and remember: the world is yours. i love you.

_

listen to the whirl of the wind: it’s kissing my cheek tonight

inspo: there is a mars for every venus

title: my heart is full again