I am always so nostalgic for our city, sweet music, good love, happiness—everything that you are to me.
I’m still not over you. I haven’t told you this because you seem so happy. I wouldn’t want to add another variable to your perfectly balanced equation.
I loved the way you’d run your hands all over me like you’d found a lost treasure.
I don’t care why—my feelings have only gotten stronger, damn them.
Hurty love is what I grew up with, and that made it natural.
I’ll only ever be satisfied when you’re in my arms.
When I look at old pictures of us, I can still remember the way your clothes smell.
Please never talk to me when I’m drunk. I would only ruin this whole “I’m over you” charade I’ve worked so hard for.
There are so many things that remind me of you that I wanted to make a list. I stopped when I realized that just the thought of it would freak you out.
“Boredom” is not a justifiable excuse to destroy me.
When I asked if you lived alone, you hesitantly said yes. Who can blame you for lying? Thirty-four and living with your grandma is so not hot.
Still Loving You
Forever now I’ll hate the Scorpions, because forever they’ll be so right.
You were the first guy I dated who I actually liked. Ironic how you treated me just like I treated every guy before you.
I feigned being bothered when you squeezed my button. I wasn’t. I loved it.
Call Me Baby
Please contact me. I’ll let you call me ‘baby’ this time.
Whenever I confess feelings they suddenly decide to slither away.
You’re in love with making people love you, not reciprocating that feeling.
I liked thinking about us. You liked thinking about our expiration date.
I wonder if you hold onto the pockets of his pajama pants while you sleep.
They always say, “You’ll know when you find the one.” Well, I knew. Why didn’t you?
Tell me what you did to me to make me write about you at 4 AM, three years later.
Questions of Travel
I’ll bet you never did read that Elizabeth Bishop poem I recommended. Your loss.
My weekends home, I take the back roads in hope to see any sign of you. I never do. But I still hope that maybe you’re searching for me, too.
You go through my mind at least once a day, every day, but you won’t even speak to me, which just pisses me off and saddens me at the same time. Yet, I’d still come fix your house if you asked.
Someone Else's Jokes
No matter how many times I tell myself I’m over you, my heart still breaks every time I hear you laugh at someone else’s jokes.
I feel like there is a string connecting us across all the miles and silence. The longer we go without speaking, the tighter the string gets pulled. It feels like it’s about to break.
Without a whisper from you in 5 years, you still make my tummy fizzy, and give my heart a hard-on.
Hey, I’m ready to read that love poem you wrote about me in 1985. You didn’t happen to save it, did you?
I haven’t been able to find your new address since you moved out of your parents’ house. Guess I’m not much of a stalker.
You’re the reason I find myself singing Madonna in the shower.
All I want is a new beginning. No, not with you. Just new.
You said “so much hair” like it was the sexiest thing you’d ever seen. it’s been over three years, and I still won’t cut it.
I’ve made major life changes since we parted. For example, I now get black beans on my Chipotle burrito.
That summer night in Cape Cod when we laid in bed talking for hours in our little fort under the sheets was the best night of my life.
You know what the worst part is? It’s that no matter how much time has passed, and how much more time will pass, every time I think about you, I can’t help but smile.
One of Them
We used to make fun of those ridiculous, goo-goo eyed, lovey-dovey couples. Then you became one of them with someone else. That’s so unfair.
I know we would have worked out in a different time. And a in different place. And maybe if we were different people.
I know procrastination is one of my bad habits, and I keep procrastinating on getting over you.
Searching your name results in nothing useful.
I consider you a muse.
Knowing that you have forgotten those nights is more painful than remembering those nights.
My mom always told me to stay with someone who loves you more than you love them. I’m guessing your mom didn’t teach you that lesson.
I’ve come to realize that the fact that I still miss the way you made me feel is my karmic reward for being your other woman.
It’s chilly out. My windows are open. The moon is big. All I can think about is how amazing you’d look on top of me, the light reflecting off your skin as we keep each other warm.
I’ve loved you for over a year now. I’ve waited patiently for you to start loving me back. You falling in love with my sister was never part of the plan.
I dread a football season without you.
Out of Whack
My life has turned out just fine…married to a great girl…but I am haunted by the fact we never were together, and the universe is out of whack because of it.
Thank you for giving me a glimpse of who I could have become with you; it makes me much more grateful for who I am without you.
I am the surest thing you’ve ever had.
I love you, I’ll just never think of you like I think of him.