carrot cake and lemon kisses

i

am

not

his

girlfriend

.

i never was.

#poem #love #girlfriend #cake #poetry

I should have said something.

Had I foreseen that I would find a boy in a bookstore, I would have come alone.

Once you had gently walked past, I couldn’t help but hid my face in the bookshelf.

People, too many people - how was I supposed to approach you?

Everything was fine, until I saw you.

I should have said something.

Something, anything,

Even a single word would have been enough.

Everything was so quiet when I saw you, yet still it was too loud to utter any words.

You were so perfect.

Out of all the things I could have thought about you, you had to be perfect.

Unable to fathom that when you were still there.

Alas, I should realise, you are gone.

Gone, forever, I suppose,

And not a single word spoken.

I should have said something, but

Now, the time has gone.

Everyone’s fighting something.

That happy-go-lucky guy at the office chokes down a handful of pills everyday so he won’t kill himself.

That successful, has-it-all-together, fit woman at the office can’t eat without suffering debilitating pain and spends her night curled up in bed.

That loving grand-mother in the park has spent her life overcoming nightly visits as a child from her own grand-father.

One of those basketball players on the court just there sits in a hospital ward 3 times a week for dialysis, and another lost her father at the age of 3

Everyone is fighting something.

Every life has a story we will never get to read.

Yeah, sometimes that person is just an asshole, but sometimes its just how those hidden stories bleed.

When we’re young we wait for the great healing event that will fix all our pain. The myth of after.

Time heals all.

Wait until you get a bit older.

Once you get out of school.

When you’re an adult.

But the pain endures. Time deadens but doesn’t heal shit. That’s not something that happens, that’s something we have to go and get. It ain’t coming to us on its own.

But we hang on to that concept like a thirsty man to a dirty water bottle. We await the great event as they continue to pass without our pain even slowing down.

Once I find my soulmate.

After I get that promotion.

Once I earn a hundred K.

Once I’m a writer.

If I only had that car, that woman, that house, that look - those fucking abs.

Even then, we’re all fighting something.

But the pain endures. Time deadens but doesn’t heal shit. That’s not something that happens, that’s something we have to go and get. It ain’t coming to us on its own.

“You’re always so happy whenever I see you around here,” she said. And I smiled and laughed with her.

“Yeah,” I added, “it sure seems that way.”

Hey. We need to talk.

Do you remember where you were the afternoon of November 3, 2015? At approximately 1:07pm?

Because I sure do.

You were in a crowded cafe, as rain poured outside and early 90s rock music played inside. You wore a tailored business suit, carried a brief case, and were clean shaven. You appeared to be a mature, intelligent adult.

But then you strolled up to the overworked cashier and spat out “spicy tuna salad on chocolate chip, please” as your order.

That was pretty fuckin’ weird.

I was the customer behind you. You probably don’t remember me — given that this was nearly three years ago, we never spoke, and I ordered a forgettable sesame bagel with plain, low-fat cream cheese.

How ya doin’, buddy?? Can I call you buddy? I thought about you a lot since that fateful day we almost met.

I’ve turned your decision over and over in my mind and have come up with only one logical explanation: you were trying to teach me a lesson.

Or lessonS, rather.

Here’s what I learned:

Never be afraid to ask for what you want. No one’s gonna just hand you a promotion, a day off, or a dollop of spicy salt water fish on sugary bread.

Be confident in knowing your own desires. Don’t settle for cream cheese when you’re really craving canned mackerel.

Get creative! Life is to short to solely mimic what others have done before you. It’s a vast world out there, filled with many protein choices and baked vessels to pair them with. Go out and explore!

Life is like a chocolate chip bagel with spicy tuna salad. Some parts are sweet, some parts are stinky, and some parts are gaping empty holes. Oh and it’ll probably make you gassy.

Don’t worry about what other people may think of you. So what if the neurotic girl behind you in the cafe line will judge you, waking up in a cold sweat for hundreds of consecutive days, remembering your actions and finally deciding on day number 935 to self-publish an essay about it? Not your problem.

Thank you for these incredible teachings, oh great one! You took a peculiar route to instill this knowledge in me but I respect it.

…or maybe you just really like mayo with chocolate? Sicko.