Looking out the kitchen window of my old job while eating the last piece of birthday cake, I see you. Looming over me, casting shadows while I walk in the sunshine and towards the water. You’re in the park where we first met. In the corner of my eye as the music plays, drinks pour, and people laugh. Not even knowing I exist – yet. And I will never look at the beach the same way again. Not the grains of sand that slide between my fingers, nor the waves that break my heart in the distance.
Whether you followed me to New York or I put you in my pocket during the move I don’t know, but you’re here too. On every rooftop whisking me away and keeping me warm long past sunset, and cradling me in your arms during the cab ride home. Have you ever danced with the devil in the pale moonlight? I have. There you are, at the slightest hint of spring. In a white v-neck and blue jeans. Kissing winter from the tips of my fingers, and melting my heart away. So warm and charming that I couldn’t even hate you if I tried. I lie.
But I just can’t seem to get away from you.
Because you live in the attic in my mind. The cellar in my soul. The basement in my bones. And you refuse to move out of the condo overlooking the water in my heart. So no matter where I go – no matter where you go, you’re still here. With me. And the agony is accepted with one hand extended while the other is covering my eyes. I want you to leave me alone as much as I don’t want you to leave me alone.
I still see you everywhere too. I just wish you could see me for me, past my sexuality. And I wish I could see past you. Entirely.