Prep Of The Pines

Hard to sit here and be close to you, and not kiss you.

Have you ever been in love? Horrible isn’t it? It makes you so vulnerable. It opens your chest and it opens up your heart and it means that someone can get inside you and mess you up. You build up all these defenses, you build up a whole suit of armor, so that nothing can hurt you, then one stupid person, no different from any other stupid person, wanders into your stupid life…You give them a piece of you. They didn’t ask for it. They did something dumb one day, like kiss you or smile at you, and then your life isn’t your own anymore. Love takes hostages. It gets inside you. It eats you out and leaves you crying in the darkness, so simple a phrase like ‘maybe we should be just friends’ turns into a glass splinter working its way into your heart. It hurts. Not just in the imagination. Not just in the mind. It’s a soul-hurt, a real gets-inside-you-and-rips-you-apart pain.

“What a small town,” I overheard a young woman say. She sat two tables over from me, smiling at her boyfriend from ear to ear. I imagine he just told her she was beautiful. I hope he said something sweet. I looked away from the couple then, back at my own plate of food. My fork chased a carrot in circles. A small town, I thought to myself. I’m sure it is small, when you’re in love. But when you’re desperately trying to run into him; when you’re trying to make sure he doesn’t forget you’re still here— it’s huge.

I think once you’ve thought about how a person sleeps, how they’d feel pressed up against your back, or your head on their chest, how compatible your bodies would be in the same space of a bed — once you’ve thought about that, you’re fucked.