i wondered if you’d be at the cathedral this morning, thought you might be. i’ve wondered so many things about you lately.
sitting next to each other there, st. mary star of the sea, saying our easter prayers – it’s the most amicable thing we’ve done together in months aside from fuck. i prayed to keep love and compassion for you in my heart. then, i asked god to help me move on. i gotta think he’s tired of being asked for the same thing by now, but it’s worth a shot. it broke my heart to do it with you right next to me, suit and all. usually i’m alone in this pleading.
glancing over at you in the pew i realized it was me who last cut your hair. i can’t totally recall the circumstances, since it was fall then and we were really on the rocks. not that we aren’t always on the rocks. our relationship washed up to shore once again – barely clinging to life. exposed and breathless. and anyway, you sat in the bathtub while i clipped away at a cut that was what i thought a good job done by the barber, but you hated. you’d woken up the night before in a sort of panic, unable to sleep because of how unhappy you were with it. i’ve since wondered if something else was bothering you – laying in my bed, knowing your other girlfriend would have been hurt. that seems like a more likely culprit. then again, i’ve never had a haircut i thought was so bad it kept me up at night, so maybe i just can’t relate.
my stomach twisted when the priest asked the congregation to give peace to one another. do you think our holy handshake could have been it? the end to our united suffering. are we okay now? do you feel the grass is greener somewhere else? do you miss me when we’re not together? cry quietly the way i do? do you imagine a day, years from now, when our twisted love story reads beautiful?
i think about our first easter and the parking lot in grand marais where you filmed me feeding the seagulls. it was the first time i saw myself through your eyes. i felt perfect then, full of hope and eager to please. like i was right where i needed to be. you braided my hair that morning. do you remember? we stood in your kitchen in front of the mirror with the polaroid of you and emily tucked in the corner.
we were barely dating but i knew already i loved you. loved you like i’d loved you forever.
i still see myself through your eyes sometimes. more than i’d like to admit. the woman there is so different now – harder, less concerned with pleasing and more focussed on persevering. she’s endured, you know? she still has dreams though, is still right where she needs to be. i like to think i’ve been given a gift of good timing, of guidance. i prayed for that too.
what do you see when you see me now? i hate to have disappointed you.
i feel sorry for us the same way i felt sorry after my mom drowned. like, it’s just so sad and if only i could have done something to stop it from happening. i tried, really, but don’t think there was much for me to do the last handful of years other than let the karma between us run its course. same for you. what can a person do to change destiny? it was written in the stars, they say. what’s meant to be is meant to be.
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