craigslist / new york city / missed connections

you’re here for an internship. we haven’t spoken for the past year, but we still see each other about as often as haley’s comet passes earth. by the time we met you had cut off your blue hair. dyed it auburn instead. I should have taken it as a warning for how you leave.

before I met you, I had been with someone else for nearly three years and thought I knew everything there was to know about relationships and love. I didn’t think it would be possible to fall in love again; when we did meet, I realized I’d never actually been in love. my heart beat faster when I first touched your shoulder than when I had my first kiss at 15. the thing people love about you is that you make them feel so incredibly human. I could’ve sworn we saw more of the world in that bedroom than most people do in a lifetime. life feels like a cool sea breeze in the last hour as the sun hangs low in the sky (a voyeur watching the fleet moments of our love). even your anger sweeps me up someplace new.

you whispered in my ear once that you don’t know how to be human, but some might call you a caricature of the human condition if everything about you wasn’t so painfully honest. maybe that’s why I was/am/will always be so drawn to you. I’ve called myself a “writer” for so long I forgot when I first started; aren’t all writers liars, too?

I waste too many words telling you the same things over and over again:

I’m sorry, I’m still in love with you, and I’m sorry I’m still in love with you.