Work Text:
5.9.2017, 9 PM.
Golden sunflowers marked the beginning
of the end. Fingers moving in practiced rhythm
until you saw the text asking for advice, followed
by the one annoyed that you had not answered right away.
"I'm sorry," you say, genuine regret and shame on your tongue
there is guilt, and fear, and self-doubt
but they forgive you, and you feel absolved.
This is what it means to say Dependency.
5.10.2017, 12 PM.
You wake up late. You always do
but this time it's to a garbled message demanding your time
swearing you off when you don't respond. There's no response
message not received. They have left, they are trying to leave
the earth. No response, message not received
Friends gather in melancholy silence, hands on shoulders
heart in throat.
This is what it means to say Fear.
5.10.2017, 11 PM.
A single text, the tone the loudest it has ever been.
An apology, again garbled, barely readable
through relieved tears. A circle rejoicing
that one has not been lost. "Talk with any of us," you beg
fear and regret and self-hatred and exhaustion
weighing down every bone. But no, only you.
Your terror means nothing, your attention insisted, and you give
because you want nothing but their happiness
you swear it to this day.
This is what it means to say Relief.
5.11.2017, 2 PM.
Fingers shake, holding your phone as you go with your roommate
to drop them off at work. A knife through the ribs
angry accusations of never loving them, of lying to them
because you suggested perhaps you couldn't help them the way they needed you to.
Being told it wasn't enough, trying wasn't enough, you weren't enough
This is what it means to say Heartbreak.
5.18.2017, 7 PM.
Emerge from your room, hair limp, eyes dazed. Go to eat
with your best friend - seven years running - and her boyfriend
You feel a smile for the first time in days, a joke over waffles
when the phone rings. They're declaring love across a burnt bridge
apologies flooding your phone one after another, and you wonder
if you should give in. You love them.
This is what it means to say Self-hatred.
8.19.2017, 11 PM.
He's been kind to you, this person met almost a year before.
He's talked you through misery, helped you bear the load
when life seemed too heavy to carry. Took the noose from around your neck
and led you to sit and cry, holding with no expectations.
When you whispered on a quiet night in August that you were falling in love with him
expecting him to quietly turn you down, but at least you’d know
you’re shocked to hear him whisper back "I've loved you for so long.” You wondered
how you could have missed the signs.
This is what it means to say Healing.
[Update. 7.7.2019, 7:15 PM.]
"What is your name on Ao3?" you ask
innocence flowing from your words like water
knowing that in five minutes time, he will know why you asked.
"You giving me a shout out?" he teases, unaware.
"Of course," you say. "It's the least the love of my life deserves."