I have feelings that I cannot explain
you told me that our first date was the best you’d ever been on
and I didn’t agree
It was a close second, but our third date was better -
we went to that improv show downtown, remember?
I wanted to hold your hand and kiss you in public but I didn’t
we silently agreed to pretend to be friends until we got back to your house
(it is easier that way, living in the south)
the people outside don’t know how
I loved falling asleep on your chest in your bed
I think it’s funny that you brush your teeth so often
and I don’t mind standing outside while you smoke a cigarette
looking out onto the man-made lake and trying to think of jokes to tell each other
I am happy you let me stand on the balcony next to you
and I am not upset about missing the end of the episode
I loved the way you rubbed my hand with your thumb
even if it made me tremble more than usual
I love the music you listen to, I loved being close to you
I do not know if this is love, but I hate it
I hate it, Anne, I hate it
I am sorry that I keep your sunglasses in my purse
I am sorry that I wear them on other dates with other people
I want you to kiss me again
I would pull away from your lips and say, “I hate you, Anne”
I would say it until I believed it
I cannot mean it, but I want to
I want to with every part of me that wanted you
I want to hate you, but I can’t
because in my mind we are sitting on the beach again
watching the sunset and you tell me I am beautiful
it was the best date, you said
maybe you’re right, Anne
you were right, and I hate that