This piece was published in the Fall 2022 edition of "The Crucible"

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Do you think of me

In Italy, all alone

In the mountains, or in your city

Or when you realize you’re not home

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We were clear when it started. This was only for fun. No love, no reasons, no lies. As time went on, our feelings did too. Our connection changed and commitments were made. The alarms in my brain sounded like fog horns in the night. I was too naïve, too curious to be afraid.  The sirens that inhabited your topaz blue eyes persuaded me with their hum. Their promises forced me to fall for your smile first. The way it glistened like the moonlight on the waves.  We made conscious decisions and constant conversation over what the rules of our game would become. I ventured your waters carefully, knowing you harnessed the power to anchor my heart like no other has.

 

At the start of our final week together, I welcomed an unexpected visitor into my appendix. As I doubled over in pain for hours, I watched the fear fill your eyes. Your topaz blue had dissolved to a midnight darker than the Aphotic. I saw right through you. I saw right through your disguise. I pretended not to be scared in an attempt to keep your worries at bay. I laid there all night, waiting for the day. You did too. You held my weakness in your hands, your love was tacit in the darkness of my room. Your whispers were a misty sea breeze blown straight from your heart. Your grasp was my flotation in the depths of so many unknowns.

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I went to urgent care the next morning after convincing you to stay home. Within minutes of my arrival, I was sent to the emergency room. On my journey, I told you everything the doctor had to say. Now I see, I could have spoken with a less terminal tone. You researched what would happen if my appendix had burst. You were paralyzed with helplessness on account of my morbidity. The storm that loomed your once blissful waters now struck lightning in assumption of the worst. You begged to join me in the barren sterileness of that hospital room 206. I refused to let you come. I needed to be alone for my final verdict.

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Within several hours, I was missing an organ and missing your calls. Patience was never made for you and this event had left you in disarray. You met me in my bedroom, the first left down the darkened hall. You asked if I was okay. You asked if I was in pain. You asked on a continuous loop. I learned quickly, even a battered record continues to play. Our final week had become a final three nights. I kept you close in an effort to stall our time. As we laid together, bodies intertwined, we discussed the future and the fractures of our relationship’s design.

On our final goodbye, you held me for a while. Not tight, in fear of causing me pain, but close enough to hear the beat both of our hearts made. As I watched you walk away slowly, I pulled my heart from denial. I knew I loved you. And it was too late.

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We both left in the late spring to fall back into our other lives. We returned to the ones who never knew of our elaborate winter fling. We continued like sister ships in the night. I longed to feel your voice and your skin. I dreamed of the nights I spent in your topaz blue eyes, feeling your subtle gaze meet mine. Our late nights apart moved fast. We watched our separate lives grow. As I tried to make our connection last, you used thundering silence to let me know.

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Sometimes I wish everything was as it used to be.

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I write this in hope of closure

I hope these feelings set me free

I hope one day, you will look back and wonder

Does he even think of me

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