it’s late november now and these three pieces are all from early spring, shortly before things fell through with you and k- and you came back to the house for the summer. before we decided to try to get pregnant. before you took me to the city for my birthday and before things felt good between us again… briefly. before i subdivided and sold the house and moved to duluth for the year. before you again inserted another woman into our love life. before i cried in your jeep for the hundredth time and told you i don’t want to be with you anymore.
i’ve visited many cathedrals since i wrote these pieces, said many prayers. i’ve gone so far as to write a note on a prayer card asking an entire congregation to pray to god to release you from my heart.
“loving him has become too painful,” i said.
i wonder if everyone there felt a familiar ache in their chest when it was read aloud. i wonder if they all knew what i meant. i wonder if god heard them.
i dreamt of you last night. and the night before. you’ve been on my mind.
i have a headache.
late may ’25
you writing you love me on the pool sign up sheet at the bar last night was maybe one of the most truly romantic things you’ve ever done for me. and, honestly, i’m not one hundred percent sure you did it for me. i’ll choose to believe a lie if it is one. it makes me feel better about some things.
it was romantic when we danced at sir bens the winter before last. i’ve always liked dancing with you.
i think you’d consider yourself a romantic guy, which is only half true. you’re romantic in theory, i’ll give you that.
i think you think a lot of romantic thoughts.
later in may ’25
if writing you love me on the pool sign up sheet is one of the most romantic things you’ve ever done for me, then you quoting one of my stories during our fussy exchange outside the bar tonight is one of the most flattering things you’ve ever said to me. would you consider yourself a fan now?
i have to say, sleeping with your roommate is a new low. even for you. is that why you’re so horny all the time? texting me photos of your penis this way and that every morning. is it because you get all turned on by her when you’re at home, watching her go about her business? text me after she leaves for work, tell me about how hard i make you. make it seem like it’s me who’s turning you on? telling me i’m your good girl.
thinking about it makes me feel sick.
but! my god, the adrenaline. it’s a high, you know – seeing you with the other women mere days after you call me your baby, your angel. not knowing about them and suddenly you’re both right in front of me. i can’t quite explain the feeling when i know it’s coming. something divine. an invisible hand pushing me through the door. physically and psychically leading me to the big reveal.
you know what’s funny? i’ll tell you.
last time – when i saw you and l- together without having known about her… you remember the details… it was maybe six days after we had that great sex i wrote about. anyway. i was in the city the day before i saw you two, and while i was there i went to a cathedral and prayed. i prayed for grace and guidance and everything else. i prayed to be shown the way. for clarity. then, a day later, there you two were. god heard me. god let me see.
now, tonight – i run into you and k-. this, a few days after we had sex in the back of your jeep, the sun setting over the mountains. i cried then, remember? cried! us saying we love each other. apologizing for things not turning out how we thought they would. you called me baby then, too.
“baby, don’t cry now,” you said. “things rarely turn out the way we think they will.”
so here we are, again, tonight, barely a week later, and i run into you with a new surprise girlfriend after i was again in the city just yesterday. and you know what? i went back to the cathedral and this time, i prayed for mercy. god had a different plan. god is probably mad at me for not listening the first time. if i was god, i’d think maybe i’m getting a bit greedy. too greedy for mercy.
god will let me suffer until i listen to what i know to be true.
your pursuit of me. is it never-ending?
my desire knows no boundaries. apparently yours doesn’t either.
i’ve never thought you to be someone who shits where they eat.
early june ’25
we don’t run into each other. that’s something i decided after seeing you tonight. you hate that i have you blocked. it makes you uneasy thinking you can’t access me in your favorite ways – a meme, a provocative text. so you’ve been waiting for me. you want me to come through the door. you know i will. and when i do, you always say something like “there you are.” you love it.
you’ll love that i turned right around and wrote this.
some people familiar with our situation have insisted most of the things you do – even the ones that hurt me – are very much for me. strange little ploys, quiet and sneaky. anything to get my attention. it’s a hill you’re willing to die on just to know i’m still around, still accessible. to see my devotion on full display is your favorite show. you love to watch me crawl. i am no coward. i have courage. you know i’ll show you my obsession. i’ve given you my love.
something else i decided tonight is we shouldn’t have sex anymore.
it’s not that i’d say no to it. it’d be passionate, wet. and, really, we could keep having sex forever and ever. we could make it productive and get pregnant. we could do whatever we feel like doing. it’s a matter of whether or not we should. but i hate playing the “should” game. it’s so fucking boring. follow your heart, do what you want. that’s my honest to god advice.
now want, that’s a bit tricky. do i want to have sex with you? always. but it’s dangerous. it’s like a candy that tastes really good until it makes you sick and turns your mouth raw and then you have to wait for your mouth to heal before enjoying any other food. the sickness stops you from wanting it again. until you do. so you go out and find it. you’re pretty easy to find. you know where to wait for me. and because i’m an addict, i show up. it’s magnetic, what we have. it’s a cycle. it’s sugary-sweet and delicious and it makes me ill.
you said you’re having fun with your roommate not girlfriend, but not, not girlfriend. it’s funny, and, between you and me, pathetic. sorry, but it’s just so desperate.
it’s okay though, i’ve lost my dignity too. i’ve been desperate before. you’ve had me on my knees, begging. do you remember? i do.
did you go home and fuck her tonight? if so, did you think of me while you did it? and if so, fuck you for that. wait, no. good for you. you’d play the “i’m happy for you” card here. i’ll take that trick out of your book. i’m just so happy for you.
you said not too long ago that your type is girls who love to suck your dick.
tonight you said your type is unicorn.
you want it all. a cookie. a piece of cake. a slice of the pie.
baby, has no one ever told you?
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