whispering bones

Anxiety fucks me awake every morning. I’m not strong enough to say no. Anxiety fucks me awake every morning. You would feel it pulling down the covers and hold me close saying “it’s okay. it’s okay” you would push my hair back and kiss my forehead “it’s okay. it’s okay.” I told you I’d always leave the light on for you. and when the porch light busted, I sat outside with a flashlight. Anxiety told me you weren’t coming home. But you did and you told me “it’s okay. it’s okay” You used to think it was sweet that I worried about you, you said it made you feel comforted to know someone would notice if you went missing. But one night the clock struck 4am without you next to me. The porch light busted and I went to bed. You stopped telling me “it’s okay. it’s okay” I stopped waiting for your headlights to shine through the window. Anxiety. My bittersweet friend. My closest friend. I still worry about you sometimes and drift to sleep waiting to hear your key in the door but you don’t know where my front porch is anymore. I worry that she doesn’t worry about you. Would she notice if you went missing? Would she notice if you went missing?

I’m not brave any more darling. I’m all broken. They’ve broken me.

March 4, 2013 I was unpacking when I heard you walk in. I had on light pink lipstick that I found at the bottom of a box. You put a few things on the counter and handed me my car keys. I kissed you and asked if you could help me move the bed. You said you needed to talk. I keep replaying this over and over in my mind. I don’t think I’ll be able to unpack the rest of our boxes. April 4, 2013 It’s been a month since you left. Mark says you’re not coming back. I can’t sleep. Are you awake? May 4, 2013 I finally went to the doctor like you had begged me to. You were right and yeah, I’ll be fine. June 4, 2013 I sold my engagement ring at a pawn shop today. I bought expensive lipstick and flowers. I also bought a lot of beer and a carton of cigarettes. I’ve lost a lot weight since you last saw me. My friends from high school that I haven’t seen in years hardly recognize me. It’s weird being back in this town without you. I spend most of my afternoons at the beach. I saw a sea turtle today while I was swimming. I miss eating breakfast food at midnight with you. July 4, 2013 I stumbled across the video of you in the car singing Taylor Swift. I deleted it before it played all the way through but I have to admit it made me laugh. I can’t remember how your voice sounds saying my name. I broke down and called you. Thank you for not answering. August 4, 2013 I dropped my cigarette in my lap when you drove past me today. September 4, 2013 I went on a date. He thinks Bud Light is “quality beer”. It just isn’t going to work out. October 4, 2013 It doesn’t hurt anymore to say your name. November 4, 2013 Hope you’re doing well. December 12, 2013 Thank you for setting me free. March 4, 2014 It has been a year. I heard you moved to Baltimore. I don’t know what you’ve heard about me but I hope it’s that I’m happy. I hope you’ve heard from our friends that they often see me sitting in the sun, laughing with my hair in a braid, collecting seashells and running straight into the ocean with no fear.

It was nice to have someone look at me that way, to think of me that way. Now that we’re no longer together, you deserve to find someone great. Someone who would look at you even when you’re not looking. Someone who would think about you endlessly even when you’re not thinking about them. Because that’s all i’ve ever been doing since you left. Can anybody ever love you more than me?

I’ve held the door open for so many strangers that my eyes hardly recognize the loved ones I’ve slammed the door on. there are days that I look out the window and feel a pain in my chest because I don’t remember how I got here days I try to find a place that makes sense. a place where these feelings don’t bash me with spiked baseball bats a place where my past doesn’t feel like pinpricks in my heart every time I breathe in too deep. I can’t save you. I can’t stop you from drowning in your own head and I can’t pull you from the sea. but I can build a home that is safe from the world a place where you look out every window and see your name in the wind. we can climb the tallest tree to watch the sun set on the world we forgot to see. you may turn to thank me and realize I was never there at all… you found the strength to rebuild all by yourself. that’s the love I want.

How I healed from my breakup. I look back now and I don’t know how I did it. My only advice is to make your life beautiful in your eyes. Stock your fridge with colorful fruit and spend an hour picking out flowers for yourself. Buy lace curtains and sit in the sun. Have a cup of hot tea in your underwear and just write. Write about anything. Go buy new sheets, the light pink ones with the ruffles. You deserve it. Take a shower before bed and use coconut shampoo. Laugh at how he would have hated pink sheets. This is your bed now, laugh in it and tell yourself goodnight. Spend $80 on the perfume you’ve always wanted. Throw away the others and while you’re at it go buy that little black dress. Go back to school and learn. Buy expensive books and tie your hair back with ribbons. Don’t wait for a man to buy you those diamond earrings. Work hard, get a job you love. Stock up on clean linen candles and keep one burning at night while you are reading. Read something good. I forbid you from reading romance novels. Cosmopolitan is the bible of heartbreak. Take all of the love you have for him and give it to yourself. Take care of you. One day you’ll wake up to the sun shining through your window and your hair will lay across your pink pillow case and you’ll smile. All of those days you spent crying will seem distant. You’ll be okay. I promise.

On the day that I meet the man I’m going to marry I will probably sleep past my alarm, trip over my shoes out the door, and stop at the grocery store on the way to work because I forgot that today is my day to bring breakfast. he’ll be there picking out fruit or cereal and when he says hello I’ll just look at him and say, “I’m really sorry you have to meet me this way.” as I try to fix my hair and adjust my shirt. we’ll probably exchange numbers and drink coffee at some shitty diner the following night. we’ll laugh about how we met, me running into him as I turned an aisle too quick. he’ll tell me that there is something different about me, he’ll notice how I hold my coffee, how I stare into space and swear I’m paying attention. he’ll probably notice right off the bat that I have a hard time sitting still and mid sentence I’ll interrupt him to say, “let’s go buy a tent. let’s camp outside tonight.” I’ll notice how he looks at me with curiosity, how his eyes grow big when I answer in excitement, how he keeps reaching for my hand but is too shy to grab it (I make the first move to put him out of his misery) I keep track of how many times he fidgets with his watch, I note that he doesn’t like too much cream in his coffee, I chip in that I like a little coffee with my cream. we’ll probably go back to my house and watch the candles flicker shadows against the wall. I’ll probably look at my bed and remember the nights I felt so lonely and look back at him and smile when he asks if I too have been looking in all the wrong places for someone just like him.

Whispering Bones, by Drew Hairgrove

like the time we sat on our wood floor and untangled christmas lights from a box labeled “easter” I thought I loved you when you said you shake your drink because you think the vitamins settle at the bottom and I laughed when you said you think dead flowers need sunlight. when I woke up this morning I missed you. I moved the dead flowers out of my window box and into the sun and while drinking coffee on a hill of tangled christmas lights I thought to myself, “this. this could be enough.

I once kissed a boy