The things that we didn’t get to do, I miss the things that we didn’t get to have.
The Saturday morning when I have to tear myself away from you to go to yoga; and I can’t hold a single asana because all I think about is the smell and taste of your skin
The shirt I have to change out of because I caught a glimpse of you on my way out the house and one thing led to another and that thing led my open mouth to your pleading penis
The long meeting where I am counting the hours to when I get to listen to your day and that laugh which turns the world; the laugh that feels like the first 10 seconds in my morning before all my shit comes together and reminds me of my burdens, rationing my happiness; the 10 seconds of freedom; of joy
I miss the friend that I have to avoid because suddenly I want only the sweet stuff that you pour
I miss the morning I ask about your ex and you say: my Honey, I can’t even remember the last time I thought about her;
Different from the morning where I ask you if you’d ever get back together with her and you hesitate, squeezing my open and vulnerable heart with: I don’t know
Don’t you know that I opened it just for you?
Don’t you know that before you I lived closed, happy to be closed?
You don’t know?
How do you not know when you are all that I want, need; when you are enough
Why am I not enough?
I miss the morning where I am enough; where you don’t hesitate; where my heart is safe with you
I miss the little elephant growing inside me;
It’s big; I’m huge and it just won’t stop growing and get out
When I first told you about the little elephant, you were nervous because once you’d asked and I had said that children were not an option
Would you get rid of it?
and I had answered simply and with all the certainty in the world:
Because I was sure
But that was in the before
Before you had convinced me
Before I’d wanted to gather elephants and belong
That was when you had been sour for days because I had killed our hypothetical child
But this one is real; it moves lazily; it’s a little lazy – so I know it’s mine. I know that there is me in it
You were nervous
‘Are you happy?’
‘I could be happy’
‘That’s a good sign…’
‘It’s a good start’
‘Should we see how it goes…?’
You were nervous
I was terrified
How should I know what to do? Who will show me? My mother is dead and I am bitter and guilty
What if I can’t love it?
What if I die and leave it?
But let’s see how it goes…
Let’s see until I can’t wait for it to come out and meet us
I miss the Wednesday that the officer smiles and says: sign here and there and you can have your certificate
She doesn’t look like a smiling woman but I suppose our happiness is contagious
Perhaps it’s the flowers in my braids and in my eyes, and the glow of the kicking little elephant
But we rushed it so we missed it
We rushed it
I got excited because you really excite me, and you felt so familiar, and old and comfortable, like getting back to something I was once very happy with but had to walk away from for a long moment
I got excited and I wanted to rush everything, including you
And I think that you did the same because you felt the same
So, we skipped the foundation; we skipped the basics, basics like how me leaving my dental floss lying around drives you crazy; and how you have loved too quickly before and shattered greatly
I missed how your mother wasn’t always kind and you didn’t know where to go for refuge, for love
We missed how I believe that I killed my mother and live in perpetual emotional discomfort and soul constipation
We got excited and we forgot to stop and get to know each other
We got excited and we forgot to do the work that tells you that I need you to touch me a lot otherwise I feel abandoned
Or that when you make me tea and kiss me when I am sleeping, you scare me because I feel like I have something which I could lose and I can’t lose anymore because loss is my word and I am trying to shake it off
and you disturb that you are something that I could lose
We rushed it and missed everything
And I miss the things that we didn’t get to have
They are so great and I want them so…