Dream last night—you’re crying on the back deck of a house I’m sure you will never visit again. The deck that no longer exists, hadn’t any time you visited or lived there, long ago converted into a sun room. “But what did I do?” I asked. “I’m not even allowed to visit the house?” Perhaps it is a dream from Mercury in retrograde—the last two times it went that way this year were crisis points in our relationship. This morning, for some reason, I think it is unjust that you tell people that I rejected you. After all of the bargaining, all of the offers that I made, all of the work that I wanted to do? The daily phone calls, the journalling, the gentleness? Even the last round of poems? All of the ways I hoped to keep you—and you get to be the aggrieved party, the rejected one? It’s not quite fair. But I wish I didn’t think about fairness anymore, wish that these debits and credits never even occurred to me, that I could let it all go. 


  1. no one you know, i just read your blog sometimes
    hope you’re doing well either way, sorry if that was intrusive

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