Unfalling

hello stranger

it’s been a while

i just wanted to let you know

some things i’ll never confess

whenever i pass by that shop 

suddenly i’m walking along the city streets with you

wherever i see that constellation 

then i’m lying by your side, rolling my eyes to your country favorites

whenever i hear the name of your city 

i wonder–

how are you?

doing nothing was easier than doing something–

one week without talking led to four

led to a month to several months

and here i am musing

do you think of me from time to time?

do the trinkets i gave you 

take you back

to game nights

to long nights

to howling parties

to slumber parties 

i loved you 

or something like that,

at least i was convinced that i did 

but intoxication is a better way to describe it

because as soon as you left,

as soon as your subtly sweet, wildly sophisticated perfume drove away for the last time,

it was as though i woke from a trance,

looking around me, bewildered, not knowing how a year had passed

maybe it was googly-eyed love

embarrassing

vulnerable

exhausting

love.

it was the most raw my heart had ever been stripped down

no. 

it wasn’t love.

having (only) experienced love through cinema, i know

love shouldn’t make me sick to my stomach, lying on my bed, shriveled up like a fallen leaf,

feeling like the world is closing in because you didn’t respond

loving doesn’t look like self-hating, too ugly, too disgusting to be loved back.

i was, and continue to be, afraid to reach out

because who would reach out to the midnight dark?

not knowing what will reach back? or when? 

if ever.

yes, i have become afraid of the dark again,

reverting back to a child, back to my mother’s bosom.

although she scorns the queer love i feel sometimes, 

i would rather go to her, 

i would run back to her

because 

maybe, if i hug her tight enough, everything else in the world will dissolve,

i’ll become the child i always was, am.

i will have never fallen

and i’ll never fall again

Thumbnail graphic by Sammi Li / North by Northwestern