The Space of You and I

“Hey, wanna watch a movie?”
“Hey, promise we won’t break each other’s hearts?”
“Hey, let’s go to Italy.”
“Hey, I’ll make dinner tonight.”
“Hey, I’ve waited for you all my life.”
“Hey, how many kids do you think we’d have?”
Everything is perfect.

And then I met Ms. “Always have my guard up.”
“Hey, who’s that guy?”
“Hey, tell me about your exes.”
And Ms. “Avoids it so casually.”
I die a little.
But you seem just fine.
It looks like you’ve done this before.
You know exactly how to act.
“Hey, give me some space,”
“You know, it’s suffocating.”

But what can I do?
I’ve seen movies like this.
And I know how it ends.
There’s no way out.
I die a little.
My pillow knows it.

“Hey, I don’t want to talk about it.”
“Hey, he’s just a friend.”
“Hey, it’s not my fault.”
You go about your day.
Pretended I didn’t exist, so you don’t have to deal with it.

So majestic in your sparkly gown,
So strategized, even the way you sound.
And those matching heels every night.
So far above me in every way.

I wonder if you’re tired,
Always piecing bricks together.
One wall after another.
Never showing the places others gave you scars.
Always one step forward, three steps back.

I’ve taken my last step forward.
You can have plenty of space, alright.
I’ll be Mr. “Back on Earth.”
Back on the ground.
Because, hey, that’s the only place you and I can breathe, right?

It’s really too bad.
And such a shame.
‘Cause I’d have been a soldier for your heart.
I’d have died hanging on the words you say.
I’d have dived from the heights you sent me.
But now, I’m Mr. “I deserve better.”
Hey, maybe someday we’ll meet again.
By then, you’ll be Ms. “Wishing the space between us was just physical.”

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This post was previously published on Hello, Love.

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