This one is for the boy with the blue eyes, the one I tried to claim like I was God.

She broke your heart.
I got it.
We all got it.
But I didn’t realize how much you needed me, really needed me, until you called me up and asked for my company.

So I gave everything.

I poured myself out over you, emptied myself for the chance that you’d smile again. I could write about how squeezing myself dry for you was beautiful and none of it hurt and all of that glittery happy stuff that people love to quote.

But at the end of the day, you looked at my empty glass while I thought to myself, smiling, “I have loved someone well for the first time in my life,”

and you asked, “Where is the rest?”

You said, “But I want more” and put the empty glass down.

And I guess that the most tragically triumphant detail about the entire situation is that, when all was said and done,
the glass was still empty.


I had a dream last night.
You forgave me for all the things you thought I did;
we sat together,
and I felt safe enough to bloom again
while you were able to
lay your tired bones at my feet
one more time;
but I woke
to cross another day off
the calendar
that I hadn’t spoken to you,
another Friday night gone by
that you spent drinking at his house
trying to swallow
every memory of her,
while to you, I was just a bubble
in the suds
of your beer.

And me?

I stopped smoking cigars.

Maybe it was because I was tired of taking my chances,
done playing Russian roulette.
Or maybe it was because the only lighter I’ve ever owned was a gift from you, and remembering you every time I flicked up a spark of a flame was worse than any cancer.

And as each memory came,
I crossed them out,
shaded over them until I could know longer make out what they said when I flipped through the pages of my life.
Some days it was that easy,
while other days were spent climbing up to the top shelf to take them down.
I lost count of the months it took to erase you, but by God I tried with all my might to erase every last memory I had.
Because erasing you was the best that I could do.

I stopped trying so hard to understand God and just let Him drown me in answers when He felt like finally giving them up to me on the day that you asked if we could get coffee.

Because why would the God who knew my heart and everything it desires plop you back into my orbit a year and a half after He took you out?


Because I learned that only when a heart starts needing God and letting Him satisfy those needs– that’s when He give us its desires, too.


One thought on “This one is for the boy with the blue eyes, the one I tried to claim like I was God.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s