#17 Dear Asshole, Ways

We had our first fight, if you could call it that.

More like a breakdown of emotion; crumbling under self-imposed pressures and truths we refuse to accept.

You confessed to me, in the heat of your moment, things I didn’t think you knew.

I can’t do this.

Now I’m the one backing away, unlatching myself from loads too heavy.

I don’t want to do this.

We promised not to get this far, to do these things and share these thoughts. The waters of destiny dissolved our arbitrary plans.

And what of the barriers? Will our Berlin crumble as well?

I should not be doing this.

Old promises echo, reminding me of past mistakes.

You hear your own skeletons, rattling their bones in warning.

I don’t know about this.

You feel too warm, too secure, too right. Your flaws are too apparent.

Hide them so that I may claim I was misled, beguiled.

Take it all back. Your intrigue, your hope.

Should we do this?

It’s too late for maybes. It is done. We’ve succumb to the nature of this beast.

With much resistance we are consumed.

This isn’t right.

How could you invade me like this? Surely I know better. Surely you know too.

We shouldn’t feel like this. We both know what hurt is. I don’t want to be torn apart again.

I love you.

Those words sicken me but it’s coming with time. Overused and cliché.

I promise to keep fighting. I vow not to fall. I swear to hide the bruises when I land.

As if it never happened we will pretend. You should pretend too. Stop giving yourself away in those rare moments.

This is right.

Neither of us expected this.

We won’t stop.

Certain things are out of our control.

#16 Dear Asshole, Loose Ties

You tied me to the dock, promising to take me out another day.

You went and played on the shore, as I floated aimlessly at sea.

Gradually, the knots you tied became wet with the waters of a new tide.

And your hold loosened.

As the ties broke I was swept away on this current, silently drifting away.

You ran back trying to grasp the last few inches of rope and pull me back in.

As the tide gains strength, you cling all the more desperately,

But I won’t tell you to let go.

I’ll only say you should’ve rocked the boat when you had the chance.

The waves are getting harder to resist.

#15 Dear Asshole, I’d Be Lying

I’d be lying if I told you I’m relaxed; checking my phone every thirty seconds waiting for you to call me.

I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t waiting for you; wondering when you’ll have a spare moment to update me on your day.

I’d be lying if I said you don’t have to come; knowing it’s a constant battle not to steal the keys and drive 2 hours to your door step in the middle of the night just to hug you.

I’d be lying if I said I didn’t miss you; I do.

I’d be lying a lot… if I tried to play it cool, and seem as unimpressed as I wish I was.

But I’m not cool, and I’m not a liar.

I trip-stumble-felled head first over the steepest cliff I could find and my gosh is it a long way down from here….

#14 Dear Asshole, Cyberspace

Dear Asshole, or the pixels that compose your image,

We met in June, on one of those summer nights lost to reason. No real reason to sleep but none to stay up either. We found each other in the idle time. Between refreshed Instagram feeds and stale twitter timelines. You asked 4 questions. And liked 3 pictures. I took 2 looks at you. And said 1 one word.

We DM, we Skype, we text. Growing closer with every character. I like your pictures, you like my status. Techno-love at its finest. I never thought I’d be swept up in this internet age, but it’s only natural, it’s how I was raised. Through screens and keyboards. LCD, Plasma, QWERTY. Surge protectors and extension cords, shooting my sentiments to you on the information super highway.

I’ve always considered myself a face to face girl. There’s something to be said about a physical connection. But you had me at the Skype ringtone, before the image loaded.

I blow you kisses through my webcam and you catch them from your speakers.

We didn’t have to meet for me to know. I’m going to keep you…locked away behind the pattern passcode on my phone. I’ll email you a piece of my heart. Hide it in a maze of subfolders on your flash drive.

You made Quicktime of stealing my affection.

I’m taking the dive, based on faith and screenshot conversations.

Will you accept my cookies and download my love?


#13 Dear Asshole, How I Know

Dear Asshole

Even though I fought it, you still held me of your own accord.

You tell me my views are ignorant, that there are so many things I’m closed off to. But you don’t tell me just to say it, or to mock or embarrass me. You tell me so that I’ll grow. You expand me beyond X and Y coordinates. You’re on Plane Z.

I’m not sure if you noticed but sometimes your hand reaches for mine and gently squeezes my palm. Or before I know it I find your fingers intertwined in mine.

You took care of me from the moment I stepped off the platform. You made a home for me in your heart and extended your love into every generous act.

And it’s quite possible that I’m reading too far into this, but I’m too far into it and knowing you’re reading this I must say that I love you. Maybe not in love, or in but only about ankle deep. As shallow as that is, it’s more than superficial. I know because I already miss you. Those kisses sting my lips when I close my eyes. I hate it when we say goodbye.

I know you do too. I know because you lingered as I boarded and even then you didn’t turn away. You play me off but I see the sadness.

It’s never in your words but in everything you do. I know you’d never say it but I mean a lot to you.

Love is letting go and you let me go. You let me know. You don’t speak it but you let it show.

You told me it once, in a briefly worded text. You chose to type the word love. No autocorrect. Ever since that day I’ve been sitting on edge. Could you really love me? Do you mean what you said?

Then I finally realized, that titles don’t matter. What we have is beyond that. What we have is ours. I told you I’d be jealous and I know you don’t care. But I also know that you love me so I suppose that’s fair. I don’t need you to say it. It’s in how you act. So I’ll just type these words. I won’t say it back.


#12 Dear Asshole, Waiting

Beloved Asshole,

I love that you never made promises you couldn’t keep.

You never gave me false hope.

And I love how you were always honest, even when it hurt.

Now it’s time for me to be honest with you,

And the honest truth?

I’m tired of waiting for you.

I’m sick of watching you go out and live your life.

Calling back every 21 days to say you miss me.

It’s not enough.

My bed is still cold and my heart is still empty,

I can’t keep wondering when you’ll be the things you know I need.

Meanwhile you’re out there chasing every toothy girl that spares a grin

Telling me you tried to make it work with them but no one interests you like I do.

You’re chasing replacements, sorta-kinda’s, and next best things

And the whole time you’re missing an essential piece.

When you met meI broke ground

And in those unearthed pieces of yourself?

In that you found……release.

And in that release

I realized I didn’t fall for you.

You fell…

for me.


#11 Dear Asshole, Hearsay

Dear Asshole,

I heard you’ve been asking about me, inquiring about how I’ve been.

I heard you’ve been wondering for a while now, about me.

What I’m doing and where I’m at. Who I’m with and what I’ve seen.

Instead of asking about me, why not ask for me?

I don’t know, that just seems to me like a better way to go.

Instead of asking around why not ask on target?

I heard it from my aunt, my cousins, my friends…

You’ve made a real nuisance of yourself.

All I’m saying is, instead of asking about me, ask ME.

The grapevine is dead.