Things We Did Before Falling Out Of Love

You kissed me in a bar. You kissed me on the street. You kissed me on the pavement outside of my apartment. You texted me good night. I texted you unintelligible letters.

You kissed me in a Halloween costume. You kissed me in your bed. You kissed my naked scalp and lend me money for a cab ride home. You texted me, I had a good time. I texted you nothing back.

You bought a red and white striped sweater that I liked. I cut your hair. You bought me an AC Newman CD from the used record store around the corner. You slept in my bed more nights than not.

When the weather was bad, you got us Vietnamese take out from the Pho shop down the road. We scrounged pennies to buy Pabst Blue Ribbon beer and Captain Morgans spiced rum. I kissed you with fervor when I was drunk. You strolled me home in the cold.

I is away. We told wed make the distance work. We didnt make it run.

I took up kickboxing. You gratified someone else.

I came back in the wintertime. We took a trip to Niagara Falls. You held my hand on the bus ride home. You said it was like marriage never left. We set a Christmas tree up in my apartment with the hardwood floors. You said you loved me. We ordered pizza and had sexuality long into the night.

I taught you how to rock climb. You taught me how to love. On the sunny days we packed up containers with flashlights and trail mixture and chalk purses and emergency first aid kits and we headed out to nowhere for weekends at a time. You told, Lets move to a cabin in the timbers, I said, Yes, and we kissed inside our four-person tent like we were the only two people on globe.

You introduced me to your parents. I introduced you to my past. We stripped all the mistakes from our scalp and we swore never to tell each others secrets. I watched movies that I didnt even like for you. You told him that you hoped wed die at ninety-five years old, in a tragic car accident with our hands clasped together, so that we never had to live in a world without one another.

We moved into the apartment with merely one window. We bought black sheets to stretch over the bed. We fucked on the counters. We fucked on the dryer. We fucked on the living room floor. You said youd run eighty hours a week if you had to, and sometimes you did. I did too.

We took vacations. We were the resentment of our friends. We took pictures of ourselves with tanned skin, holding coconut drinkings and kissing each other on exotic foreign beaches. We laughed at ourselves for being average. We took another sip and let it slide.

We let the seasons change. We let one another change, into people we didnt always know. We got high and reveled in one another bodies. We get low and kissed the sadness from our scalp. On the days when things were bad, I conceal each knife in the apartment before I left for work. On the working day when things were good, we got wine drunk and promised all of our tomorrows to each other.

You kissed me in the car. You kissed me at the doctors office. You kissed me with your eyes all light up and frightened of all the tomorrows and perhaps. When the cold went, we moved in closer to each other. We swear that marriage make it okay. We swore that the spring would come someday.

When the earth thawed, we planted flowers in rows outside our house. I caught you staring, in the daytime, at the wild, rambling roads that used to beckon you home. Your mother said the colour had returned to your scalp and I stopped concealing the knives in the back of the pantry when I left early for run. You told me you believed people could save one another. You kissed me slowly. I kissed you hard. You kissed me in the clay and on the concrete and in the early morning hours when the sunlight had barely risen.

You said, Im never going to fall out of love with you.

I told you, Me too.

Read more:

Leave a Reply