The moment I step into my bedroom,
I’m attacked by grief
waiting for me in the dark.
It jumps on my back,
flings me violently across my bed,
presses my face into my pillow,
and pulls out all my stuffing like a dog.
I didn’t realize how much I loved
knowing Jonathan was mine.
I want to take back the breakup. How could I be
so stupid and impulsive? I’ve ruined
everything. And it takes far too many days
of sitting in history class with my toes stretched
way, way back to realize
that footsie moment of clarity
must have been a misunderstanding. Or maybe a
Bloopers & Practical Jokes-style prank.
Love is not waiting for me
around every corner
the way Jonathan made it seem it would be.
He set me up to trust and have faith,
to see myself as deserving of love,
and that was his one
true cruelty.