Where I Feel It
I still love you so much the thought of you makes my teeth ache.
Sometimes, when I’m walking past a tree, I’ll think of you and want to make out with it.
I know you only gave me a backrub because you happened to be standing behind me when the music stopped, but to me, at fourteen, it felt like fate.
I told a new love about your secret blowjob trick and credited it to an old Cosmopolitan.
You are the only girl who demanded I not use a condom.
I got fat after I left you. That’s the real reason I don’t want to hang out.
I held onto the jade cufflinks you gave me for the prom, forty-nine years ago. I just gave them to my son.
I do not miss your drunken rages. I do not miss paying for everything. I absolutely do not miss your insane family, and I do not miss uncovering your many lies. However, I think of you often while masturbating.
Did you break up with me because I ate my eyelashes?
I used to wish we only had room for a twin bed, so I would’ve had an excuse to sleep closer to you.
I sometimes go into the chat room where we met. I use different names and flirt with you without you knowing who it is.
I Want It That Way
No doubt in your head you were the perfect gentleman. You bought dinners, opened doors, said I looked good. But you refused to love me, which was all I wanted. Jerk.
We hadn’t talked since High School, yet I always thought of you. Then, you Facebooked me. It made my year.
If only I’d thought to bottle the way your neck smelled after a jog along the river.
Size the Day
Thank you for saying my penis was huge. I thank you, and my penis thanks you. I know you said it just to get out of anal sex, but I’ll never tell my penis that.
You’re engaged now. To a girl who is 20 pounds heavier than me.
Did you get engaged just because you found out I’d moved on? To one of your old best friends?
Just For Luck
I wish I’d saved a few pairs of your underwear, to seal in a jar and keep on a shelf high in the pantry. Is that the sort of thing that makes you miss me, or glad it’s over?
I have replaced you with a body pillow.
I went to see you at the juice bar where you worked, but you had moved away to college.
I’m trying not to miss the bird-like thing your impossibly blond hair did in the morning, your immaculate sneakers, your big lips, and how much you needed me to take care of you.
Couldn’t you just consolidate and work off your credit card debt instead of going to Belize with that old man?
Once when I was mad at you I nearly kicked your cat’s face in. I am so, so glad I didn’t.
Do you still pick your nose and eat it? Are you still a crybaby? Do you remember holding hands on the playground one minute and throwing sand in my face the next? I do. And I hope you’re miserable.
I miss your socks being everywhere. I know it used to get on my nerves, and I know it’s a silly thing to miss. But there were times when I would get home before you, pick up all your socks, and wonder what you would do without me. Now I know.
I Could've Had A
I refused to have sex with Winona Ryder in a dream once because we were going out. I did not know it was a dream, and when I woke up I slapped my forehead and cringed. Just like a V-8 commercial. Just like I do now whenever I remember all the loyalty I wasted on you.
Back When We Wrote
I saved your letters for years. Finally, I threw them away. Now, I’m wondering if you would re-write them. At least the good parts.
You started dating the opposite of me two months after we called off the engagement. She wears glitter.
I knew he was your husband when I said, “Who’s the gay guy?” I wasn’t really sorry when I apologized back then, but, you’ll have to believe me, I am a little sorry now.
When we first got together and you asked how many women I’d slept with, I thought you were worried about STDs. Now I’m pretty sure it was my sexual technique that made you ask.
“And We Danced” by The Hooters There...
I know it would’ve been strange and inappropriate for you to be at my wedding, smoldering in the back row, but it seemed even odder that you weren’t there.
Can You Hear Me Now?
I’ve gone through three phones since we last spoke. How many more before I stop transferring your number?
I’ll always be jealous of whoever is with you. And I’m talking all the way to the one pushing you in a wheelchair along the dewy lanes of your rest home campus.
Small Talk with Bite
When I see you, what I really want to ask about is your vagina. It’d be in same spirit as inquiring about a beloved dog. “How is the vagina? What’s it up to? Any adorable mischief lately? Please pass along my best!”
When I catch a whiff of it, I realize I’m still tangled up in your Aqua Net.
“Baby Bitch” by Ween Songs about...
I still have your yoga mat. Some quiet nights I sit on it “Indian-style” and pretend it’s a magic carpet.
Mother told me, “Don’t buy the first coat you try on.” So I broke up with you. But in retrospect, I think she was talking about coats. Sorry.
I still think of yours as the platonic wiener, and I hope you’ll let me know if it’s ever molded and mass-produced as a sex toy.
You looked so cute at the beach, in the breezy off-season.
Apple of Mine
I was more than ready to give you a shot, but I could never be with someone who thinks chucking an apple core is a heinous act of littering.
If we’d met five years later, I bet we would’ve gotten married. I won’t bet on how long it would’ve lasted.
You were fresh from swimming laps, and we ran into each other. (Ran into each other! Such potential in that phrase.) We ended up at my place. You clearly wanted to do it, and I don’t know why I held back. I still don’t know why, but I keep visiting that aftternoon.
Always a Star
When my husband and I were making our “celebrities we get a license to sleep with” lists, I tried to sneak you onto mine. I said you were huge in the blogosphere.
I’m sorry that when you wanted to break up with me I tried to talk you out of it. But I am proud of the fact that I was able to filibuster for three and a half months.
I recycled “our song,” the dB’s...
You were the first and only person I wanted to talk to when I heard about David Foster Wallace.
That time I told you I could’ve cheated but didn’t—with the girl I’d grown up with—I really didn’t cheat. But I wish I had, which is worse.
I started collecting vintage erotica because they have bodies and hair like yours.