Crossword
Sometimes the memories come back in fragments
Sometimes the wanting runs too deep and my mind sifts for pieces I think I can remember correctly. I love it when you talk down to me, like I don’t know what’s best for my life. I like when you tell me I am not good enough just by how you push me away while you sleep.
You hold me like a crossword puzzle in bed with the lights dim. The comforter makes a shuffling sound as you inch closer. Your head on my shoulder while I hold my crosswords in one hand and pencil in the other. You lay on my arm and try to help me figure it out, I never asked you to. You know me so well, better than I can figure myself out. I love to solve impersonal problems, sort through concepts, and rearrange facts that have nothing to do with me.
My finger runs over the verticals and then the horizontals. We run through the list 3 times together before you call it a night. You used to like to watch me make sense of, parse thoughts, and then suck my teeth and rub my fingers together when I get stuck. I flit through words and phrases till I can follow through the messy web of useless and useful facts stored somewhere in my mind.
You will never love me for who I really am. And I know that. When you tell me everything I’m doing wrong and how I make you feel unimportant before I turn the lights off. You are still holding onto me like a crossword puzzle.
I wonder who you are holding onto now. What if all of our good memories leave my body? I wrote everything I could remember about you down so that I wouldn’t forget. Now I just read as many books as I can to try and feel you next to me again.
I wonder what you are holding onto now. Who’s in your life? Who do you love? Who has the privilege of being figured out by you my love?