"I am trying to put a pin in this.I am trying to call this finished, orover, orsomething we are on..."

“I am trying to put a pin in this.

I am trying to call this finished, or

over, or

something we are on the other side of.

But it’s hard finding closure when you’re standing

in front of a door you never opened.

See, you can’t finish a race if you’re still

standing, bashful, at the starting line.

I wonder

how many months we’ve already spent

watching each other fall in and out of love

with other people.

I wonder

if I’m meant to spend a lifetime

asking god about your mouth.

This boy is not my answer

to the question we never ask each other.

No matter what anyone says,

I’m not looking for you, in him.

He is not the echo of your hands;

he looks nothing like your ghost.

I could fall in love with him and

it would have nothing to do with you–

just like the boy who broke your heart

had nothing to do with me.

I shouldn’t have to apologize

for the state we find ourselves in, and yet

I catch myself dusting my own heart

for fingerprints, for motive,

for evidence of a crime.

So this is what it is to be in love at a distance:

measured in miles,

measured in time-zones,

measured in how often I’ve thought

about my hands and your hands and

your hips and my thighs,

measured in how high we can stack

the fear, the denial, the regret.

I guess this is us finding out the hard way

that a hundred thousand maybes

aren’t worth a single fucking

yes.”

- THE ONE I DON’T WANT YOU TO READ by Ashe Vernon