Gia Raquel

You never see yourself how you want to

And you never quite think someone else will see that either

 

 

When you walk up to a small group of people, you sit,

Listening to the conversation, but never contributing.

It needed to be a beginning

 

 

He saunters through, catching your eye at first

You look down, something inside of you is crying

You haven’t cried in months

 

 

You look up and see him again

He is sitting a little to your left

You long for home

You aren’t sure where home is anymore

 

 

You fail to find his imperfections

Depression has grown in your stomach like an unwanted child

Thankfully abortions are legal in New York

 

 

Something else is being created

You’re not sure what

You’re smiling

Something’s different

You see him behind you

 

 

You observe him, anticipating his words

When he speaks of a girl

“She’s pretty,” you say

“She’s a goddess.”

You nod, you smile

 

 

You cry later when you lie in your bed

You can’t sleep

Thinking of your foolishness

The next day you get up and don’t dare look in the mirror

 

 

 

 

Feeling him against you is a humorous dilemma

Someone turns on the light

You both jump away like you’re doing something wrong

You aren’t

Not yet

 

 

You hear his little habits

Memorize the small cuts by his fingernails

Recognize his scent as it buries itself in your bed

 

 

As if you have always been there

You lie on top of him

Feeling his hands trail down

down

down

 

 

“Are you sure?”

You aren’t

You don’t even fully comprehend what is happening

But your shirt is off

Then his

Your shorts are off

Then his

 

 

There is nothing between you

Not when he feels your breasts

Or when you trail his inner thighs

“I’ve never kissed anyone.”

And then you have

 

 

You leave his room

Hand in hand

You both think to keep this a secret

But he starts to realize how hard it is to refrain from kissing you

 

 

“I wish I could take you with me.”

“Don’t say that. You can’t say that,” he replies

You know he’s right

You hate he’s right

You both begin to cry

And you start to scream

You know you’ll have to let him go

 

 

He touches your cheek softly

He says he loves you

And you laugh

 

 

Promises are made to be broken

That’s why you had stopped making them

You are foolish to believe this would be any different

 

 

You hear those words again

“Are you sure?”

You aren’t

“Yes.”

You are familiar with every angle of his body

Every freckle

Every line

 

 

You cry first

The fear overshoots the pain from the pit of your stomach pooling down your legs

He cries second

Hitting the wall

Hiding his face

 

 

Rape hangs in the air like that unwanted child

“I said yes,” you plea.

“But I hurt you.”

 

 

Your goodbye is full of hysteria and forced smiles

Both of your hearts are beating hard

Neither realizes how soon the plane is leaving

 

 

You hug him

You kiss him lightly

“I love you.”

“I love you.”

And then he leaves

You sit on a bench for hours

Speaking to a girl that had familiarity in her hands

She feels your heart

It is like her own

 

 

“But you two…You two had something real. You were real. People look for something like that. And you had it.”

You smile sadly,

“I had that.”