Some Mad Hope

As they entered November, the weather turned very cold. The mountains around the school became icy grey and the lake like chilled steel. Every morning the ground was covered in frost.

the GPS is telling us to turn right to go to the airport but what if we turned it off? what if we kept driving and your hand was always on my leg and we never got the sand out of our hair? I know that I should be mature and kiss you without my hands on your face and walk to the terminal with a straight back but I can’t stop thinking about your ocean glass eyes. I love you and sometimes I’m sloppy about it but I think that’s okay because no one ever wrote about a love that didn’t get a little messy sometimes. let’s not turn right. left feels better. left leaves me with you.

I’m in your apartment but it doesn’t feel like your apartment anymore. I recognize everything here but a strange light washes over it, tinged blue and different. I used to be able to draw this room from memory. Now, I don’t belong here. And even though I don’t belong here, I’m sitting here because we haven’t yet admitted that I don’t belong here. It’s embarrassing, sitting here with my heart in my hands and hoping you look my way. You used to know my heart so well. I cry on the train ride home and lean my head against the window, on my way to a new apartment, where I don’t even know the color of the curtains.