anything except you

I want to write about anything except for you. Like maybe how much I hate dead grass but love chocolate and peanut butter (like could there be a better combination?). Or how when I sleep I have to surround myself with blankets so I feel safe. And how black nail polish isn't just black; it’s dark. Still I can think of

nothing

except for you. Maybe if I write this for you I can move on. I can get you out of my mind. Because every time he wraps his arms around me, or leans his head down so his lips can meet mine, I still feel you. I tell myself not to think your name. I tell myself to forget you.

I want to write about anything except you. And how you’re way out of my league. But I can still ice skate better than you even though you work at an ice rink and mine is 30 minutes away. Or how we found that constellation and named it and now it’s ours. Just like the lake and the night and the sunrise and secret looks and everything else we ever did together. The way you looked at me and how at that moment I didn't doubt anything but the next I knew nothing. And now I love Insidious even though I hate scary movies. And that you’re my best adventure buddy.

I want to write about anything except you. And how it’s been a while now, at least it feels like forever. The day you said goodbye you gave me one last hug. I remember so clearly my hand lingered on your shoulder and your eyes on mine. How you are all that's ever on my mind. All that I laugh and love and dream about.  How you still haven't texted or called me. How I have gotten really good at acting like I don't care. But I still do.

I want to write about anything except you.

As Always, Auburn Crane