The beginning of the story goes like this.

I think it was your brown and white Ascics that originally attracted me to you. I hate to admit it because it sounds really shallow, but shoes have always been kind of a big deal to me. If your shoes had been ugly, that would have been a deal breaker. Maybe I wouldn't have fallen for you if you were wearing steel toed boots, or skate shoes stuffed with extra socks. The Ascics were kind of my style. I thought they were cute. They weren't conspicuous or obnoxious, they were just intriguing and nice looking. Like you.

I always felt like you were too cool for me. I felt that way about most people in high school. I had braces and I was kind of a tomboy, there was no way I was cool enough to compete with cheerleaders and those paradoxically smart and popular M.U.N kids. Basically, I wasn't really a big deal. You didn't talk to me or look at me in class, and I never expected you to. I was content with admiring your shoes from the back of the row next to yours. When we would watch movies in class I'd sit back in my chair and watch you daydream instead, the light from the TV turning you a lovely shade of blue in the cool darkness of the classroom. I'd imagine myself cooler, more interesting and possibly better looking, sauntering over to the empty desk next to you and having a seat. In my imagination I was terribly suave and would win you over with my smile (braces-less, of course, in my fantasy), and then we would make out in the flickering TV light. Then class would end and that would be that.

I remember the first time we spoke. It must have been almost halfway through the school year before we ever exchanged words. I don't remember how the conversation started, but we talked about movies. I said I liked foreign films. You said you did, too. I told you i liked your shoes. You laughed in that way that I'd later come to know very well, the way you laugh when you feel self conscious about something. Looking back I realize that you may not have thought I was being sincere, and I wish I could go back and say "No, really. I do like your shoes, a lot." Nevertheless, that little meaningless conversation was the start of something much bigger, something that would become so important to me I couldn't possibly have fathomed it at the time. I remember being giddy as I left class that day.

Recently you told me how you liked me a lot in high school. I didn't really believe you when you told me. I wish I had known then what I know now. It may have saved me a lot of heartache to know that you were as into me as I was into you. We might not have ended up in this position we're in now- me broken hearted and you turned off by all the things I did to try and get over you, because I thought you didn't like me. I wish you would have told me sooner. I've liked you since the day we met, since the day we first talked. I like you still. Now I can only hope for you to change your mind. My offer still stands. I would love you, I would be good to you.

You and me, we could really be something.

Trevi

oddly enough,

even though at that time

i was pretty sure

that i loved someone

(who was not you)

when i tossed my coin

into that unnatural

blueish water,

before i pushed the thought

out of my head--

my first wish was

to be with you.

The Bastard Time

She realized one night that time was running out.

The silence was oppressive and the air was hot and stagnant. Through the darkness the endless ticking of the wall clock was the only sound, the only hint of life other than her quiet, careful breathing.

It was summer. Early July. The air was thick and humid, and her tiny breaths stopped and hung in the space above her bed like spiders, dangling with legs moving soundlessly, suspended in mid air. When night fell she could do nothing but breathe. She breathed in rhythm with the sound of the clock. In for five seconds, out for five. Ten seconds gone. Six deep breaths and a whole minute of her life had passed. 60 seconds she would never have to face again, one minute wasted in the dark of a moonless, windless night. With the light on she felt as if she were being watched from just beyond where the light reached, so she stayed in the dark. She thought that if she lay still enough she would make it through the night undetected, unseen and untouched by the black night creeping through the dead space around her. So in the blackness she breathed, exhaling into the velvet dark all around her, breath sticking to the night like flies on fly paper.

She would always fall asleep in the moments just after sunrise, when the light from the waking sun began to tiptoe over her window sill. She would wait for the light to be just bright enough to see that no one was watching her, for the morning to be just far enough along for neighbors to begin starting their cars and for newspaper vans to start their rounds. She would wait just until life began to surface from underneath the cover of heavy darkness and then she would close her eyes. Time had not stopped. Life would indeed go on.

Every night she was vigilant, waiting quietly for the thief to come.

your you're there their.

trying and failing

is still failing.

"at least i tried"

means nothing.

having made an effort

doesn't fix the broken heart

i got as a souvenir.

time heals all wounds.

time wounds all heals.

if anyone tells you

"you can do anything you set your mind to."

you can tell them

"bullshit."

All my favorite songs are about you, asshole.

I DON'T EVER WANT TO BE YOUR FRIEND.

I JUST WANT TO BE YOUR

LOVER.

Independence Day

I cried for a long time after you died.

I kept thinking of how much dimmer the world would be

without your 10 billion kilowatt smile.

I didn't even watch the fireworks

in the park that year.

instead, I stayed on the couch with my eyes swollen shut

and tried really hard to time travel,

to tell you one last time how cool i thought you were

and how I always had the biggest crush on you.

But now, a year later, I've decided

that I shouldn't have been so sad

because you picked the best day of the year

to make your journey through the Pearly Gates

because after you finished filling out your forms

and St. Peter stamped and filed them and handed you a halo,

you showed up just in time for the heavenly block party,

had a heavenly hot dog and a beer

and enjoyed your brand new independence

from the things of earth.

And plus, I'm willing to bet that the best seats

for watching fireworks on the Fourth

are in Heaven.