"I won't" He said.

I was lucky/unfortunate enough to hear part of this conversation in starbucks when I went to get my usual, always-burnt, grande drip coffee. She clearly was not understanding this poor fellow. I extrapolated for the middle, but I caught the first and last, and some random words in the middle. I can't believe i wrote about these poor people. I'm such a creep.

------

“You have no idea why I exaggerate!” he said with a smolder. He was on a small breaking point. But maybe it was too early to break. It probably was.

“It was, like, two weeks! Calm down.” she punched back specifically.

Too late, it was too early for this, but it was breaking quickly. “You liked me! you never goddamn said it, but you sure as hell acted like you did. For a year you acted like it! So I went off of that. Can you blame me? And now, now, you want to know what I’m thinking now?”

She didn’t. Her eyes were big. (this is where I began to order. So here we go!)

“Well, your goddamn ignorance lies in how goddamn selfish you are. And the worst part is, I know you aren’t! I know you aren’t. I hear how you talk to your dad. Or your friends. You’re there for them. And it is everything that I admire about you that I can’t goddamn stand. Your raging ambition presses you towards independence. And what your intelligence seems to miss is that you can have someone that simply listens and goddamn cares. You either can’t comprehend or just refuse to see that maybe, maybe I can be there for you with no responsibility or obligation. Its not so goddamn hard to tell someone how you are doing. To just open that goddamn heart that I have been waiting so long for. I’m asking you do it simply. Not complicated. Not vomiting. Not committing. But for a few minutes think that maybe I do fit into your plan. I can support it. I can even make it better. Imagine that? Making it better. You can go off and do what ever and you can just goddamn be there with me. I’ve got my own stuff, but I think about you. And...I just...I think this is where we differ. I feel like you have something so inhumanly incapable of committing to me because of your preconceived notions. I won’t stay. I won’t. I’m good. And you’ll miss me. You’ll miss me because I was patient and I actually did care. I held you in a way that had purpose and meaning and I let you know how much I cared through a hug. A simple goddamn hug. I was always careful and held you as something precious. Even though you didn't and still don't think you deserve it. But I did. It was unexplainable, but I did and do care for you. It was only your own goddamn shame that kept you from seeing it. I am all these things that you admired but couldn't find the goddamn courage to get past your stupid feelings and say it! You couldn’t”

There was a pause. (I walked by to leave. At a slow pace. And I got the last line)

“I won’t stay. Because I’ve tried, like you asked me to, and it still didn’t work, which is your fault. I want to stay, but you aren’t letting me.”

(I walked out)

The bell on the door jingled. It shook her from her confounded thoughts. She felt empty. She had underestimated him.

He kept sitting there. And I wasn't sure why. Maybe he lied. Or maybe he needed to say it and threaten her. I'm not sure. I walked out.

"Remember that?" She said

its jumbled. grammar isn't my strong suit. sometimes i picture my brother and sister like this...kind of. sis, you may be more ridiculous and j you may actually say something different.   

------

When she started she had such expectancy and joy!, “Do you remember the time we jumped on the trampoline so much the lemonade in our belly’s jostled and made us sick, and we could only collapse in grumbled laughter, and hold each other as the springs still gave way to out bodies? Remember that?”

He was across the table from her. He was very quiet. He certainly did not make eye contact. He kept his gaze down at the work in front of him. The corner of her mouth turned up with a laid back ease, still enjoying the memory.

“Remember the first time we walked around my neighborhood to look at Christmas lights? You brought me hot chocolate and a pack of candy canes because you knew I liked the taste of real peppermint better than the packaged stuff. You even found those ridiculous little marshmallows. Which you ate a lot more of. Throwing them up in the air, trying to impress me with how many you could catch in your mouth”

Still the top of his head was all she saw. These were beautiful moments in her life, lasting memories. And he penciled away. She cocked her head a little to the left and her smile became tense in the corners.

“I remember when you tried to write me that song on the piano. You were so bad,” She watched for a reaction “You plunked and laughed your way through it. Wildly throwing your hands in the air and then back down, your head cocked back for emphasis, banging out the chords. All of it to make me laugh because the notion that you would write me a real song might have been too much so soon. So you made references to our first dates and my trend of being fashionably late and how terrible I am at talking on the phone. Then you would throw in a line or two about my smile really being your favorite part because it implied so much. Or how much better I made you or something like that. You were such a dork then. Still are” She even tried a little shove here. Nothing.

Her intent was now aggressive, “Remember when you spilled your stupid coffee all over my mom the first time you met her. I don’t know why you were still holding it. But I know you couldn't blame it on nerves. They were always going to love you because I—” here she trailed off, “—so I know you weren’t nervous”

The man of course remained silent.

“Remember the argument you started last night? Remember how you were wrong and over thinking everything? Remember how awkward you felt because I didn't know what to say and I sat there waiting for you to make the realization finally. Remember how you are always the second one to know what’s going on and how I feel about you?”

She finally stopped. Now it was his turn. His head came up and his smile implied he had been holding something in and it was that last comment that truly got him. He sighed and looked at her holding her breath. He knew exactly how he felt about her.

“...Now you know how it feels” His smile was full. And wry. And playful. He had got her. Finally. Her mouth dropped open just a bit. She gasped inwards, bit her lower lip and slapped his arm with a scrunched nose and embarrassed cheeks. Her face was warm and she knew how she felt too.  

 

"Just enough" said the rain.

He walked at a pace that meant he didn’t have to be anywhere. But it was raining. He walked differently than anybody else around him. A few times the local bus splashed by offering a seat and a break from being wet. Each time he denied the hospitality. He wanted the rain. He walked with his hood off and his jacket open. His hands even swayed outside of his pockets. The rain was an ally. It wasn’t dramatic, just constant. It came down just enough to make him feel awake and weigh down his hair. The rain and the man were determined to wash away winter and begin a spring. Even if it came at the expense of darkness and dampness. Again the man felt God was alive and wanted him to have fun. This walk would not free him of his doubts or worries nor would it grant him wishes or uncover deep truths nor would it make him feel better. It would allow him to feel just for a few blocks. 14 in fact. 14 blocks of being alive and wet and more in tune. 

 

"This is not an underestimation!" he said

They were out to coffee (actually outside too. most likely in the sun) and he held his cup with both hands. Her cup simply sat on the table. She would drink it when she needed to. He used his to gesture. Especially when he was in the middle of this great statement: 

“Every time I see you I forget how pretty you are because these daydreams of mine can never quite match up. And this is not an underestimation! but rather the reality of who you are is far more appealing than any made up fantasy this man (referring to himself cleverly) can imagine. And I know you can’t take compliments. (the next statement he says because he thinks he knows her) Not well anyway . So I pray you don't see this as unspecific flattery that can very rarely be trusted, but as a conviction that maybe I should take up less dreams and enjoy more true images that lay before me. like the way I swear our smiles happen together and—” 

She said, “You say too much sometimes” with a smile

“Ouch” he says with a good mix of hurt, sarcasm and an attempt to smile through his rejection.

“I promise I’m flattered” A moment goes by.

“Well sure, but you could at least let me say it,” he throws out like a small kid.

“Believe me I know it. I knew it the first time you spent all your energy listening to me”

That’s not good enough for him. She smiles. He sulks. She smiles more and does not look away from him. Her look dares him to make eye contact. If he did it would be too hard to keep his grumbly way. She does not falter. He laughs at her and then himself. 

 

"Please don't be" she said.

this is a dream i had a long time ago and i wrote it down recently and so i wrote it down again here.

---

They could see the darkness in the bedroom better than they could see each other. It was the fourth hour they had been talking and one of them was feeling like they needed to say something. 

He said with great earnest: “—I can be perfect for you. I can boyfriend-song-and-dance better than all of them. I can be perfect for you”

She stopped for a moment with her mouth just barely open and breathing. Then turned quietly and quite deliberately: “Please don’t be. I never asked that. I never asked that because I know where that, that, feeling comes from. I know why you are telling me this. Please, don’t be scared of me. I can see you are. And don’t be scared of me please. I’m pretty tiny and you’re bigger (she smiled here because she knows she is funny and a little cute).  Dream of the good times we’ve already had. Not the worry of something not working out. Not the worry of something that never got a chance to develop. Not the fear. If you’re gonna think of me, then think of the time we heard the birds chirp for the first time. Think of the way I scratched your back lightly with my little fingernails. Think of the time you listened to me tell stories about my father at the pool hall. Don't be afraid of me. I fear you too. But a relationship based in your fear and your compensation is not a relationship I want to be apart of. I would, however, love to be apart of you. Don’t exaggerate me. Don’t. Don’t dream me. Keep me in your reality and the ten feet in front of you and the sharpness of your dropping eyes. Please don’t fear me. I don’t want to be apart of that. Be apart of me. we’ll figure this out. It won’t end how you hoped, dreamed, loved, but we’ll find a way. Just listen to me and tell me. And remember me for who I am, not how you felt about me”

He understood her somehow. He shook his head, “I know. and I promise you I can—”

“No,” she interjected, “I don’t want to hear what you promise”

“Then at least hear that 4 times tonight I’ve been afraid of you,” the suddenness of his own voice caught them both off guard, “Terrified of what you thought of me and what’s worse is I know that you should mean nothing to me because I don’t know you. But you do. You do. Maybe I’m crazy. But what I see in you is someone calm and explosive. Someone I don’t know. Someone with great courage who can sit in a moment and not have to think her whole goddamn way through it. It’s amazing. To me anyway. And I’ve been trying to find the best way to impress you or flirt with you or make you smile. Like I need to make you laugh, ya know? To make you like me. And I know how I should be. I know myself. I know you’d like me. I know I could be kind enough and strong enough and smart enough for you to be proud of. I know I can. I know that you’d like me”

“Don’t prove it. It’s so ridiculous. Just sit with me please and don’t worry” she consoled with an undertone of frustrated urgency.

He saw her eyes and the grey outline of her thick hair. He shook his head shortly from side to side knowing that no matter what he said it would be forced and if he kissed her now it would seem silly...And there it all was! All that he was thinking, stopping him from sitting with her. So he stopped, slumped down to her pillow, reached for her hand and sat for a moment. Kissed her shoulder as a thank you and put his head down. She bent over him and found his mouth, pressed her lips to his without much effort and with eyes closed. And there he felt her lips stretch out like arms into a smile. He let out a breathy laugh  and let the full weight of her head rest on his chest where he kissed the top of her head and they forgot how they fell asleep.

 

love me like I'm (unfinished)

love me like i'm

gonna hurt you later on

love me like a too short hair cut;

the one you knew shouldn't have happened

the one you were always nervous for

love me like snowmen melting

love me like grapes love the vine,

grab and hold on to me until you're ready

and big

then you'll be plucked and i'll be left without the beautiful part

love me like birthday cards,

read me

check me for money

laugh at my song and punch line

hear my endearing thoughts

then discard me

if i'm lucky i'll end up in your keepsake drawer 

love me like I have no ambition,

and you have to wake MY lazy ass up every morning

be the first to dream and chase and insist and tell the story

love me like rhyme schemes,

like really pretty, but too much is like, really annoying

love me like a week old band-aid,

soon your body will learn to scab 

and you'll pull me off real quick

we'll both hurt less

love me like burning hemp fields,

getting the air and everyone around really high

but leaving ruin on the ground below

love me like a puzzle missing 6 pieces

love me like you have no tomorrow with me

And i will love YOU like waves to seashells 

I'll work you over and smooth you out (but keep all your natural colors)

I'll make you clean and hold you deep inside my chest

wavering and washing in warmth. 

crack my ribs and (unfinished)

crack my ribs and

set this golden hummingbird free-

soaring out dangerously-

spreading its wings of kerosine-

infecting and flaring the night with its tearing light-

shouting at the darkness

"go away

go away!

leave him alone.

leave this boy alone!

he MUST know what it means to be protected"