Wednesday, February 5, 2014

You on my mind everyday since June 2010.

I talk about you. I talk about your perfect splits. How nice your hair was. Your dancer's body. I talk about how beautiful our kids would've been. I talk about you to people who never knew you and I sound like a high school quarterback reliving his salad days.

I should have thrown a party for my thirtieth birthday. We should have celebrated big. I act as if I don't care about making spectacles out of milestones, but I do. I really do. Not sure how it happened, but I've made myself believe I'm not worthy of any hoopla. Hoopla is for happy people. I have never been happy.

The children. They would've been sweet.

I've done everything to avoid my dreams. I move to the wrong cities. I focus on the wrong kinds of employment. I do not try to become the one thing I've always dreamed of being and that is a glittering star.

I thought anthropology would've been nice to study. I should have focused on languages. Love made me stupid.

Hey you.

I've got dilemmas.

I want to throw all these clocks out the window.