by his ex-girlfriend
I saw her bobby pins today. They were under my pillow and they look like wiry legs of spiders, but they feel like splinters of her undressing in my bed. I have the whole bed to myself now, more arm room than any man could ever want. I’m curled up towards the wall tonight. That was her side, but now I can stretch my knees. I can’t really picture another girl laying there, her eyes pierced my soul and her smile told me that side of the bed would forever be hers, even though she wouldn’t forever be mine. She doesn’t love me now. I hear she met someone else, and I’m not mad. I mean, I want to punch his face in and I want to grab her cheeks and yell what are you doing? but I won’t. I can’t promise her all that he can promise her. Should I text her? It’s 2 a.m. and she’ll probably take it the wrong way. Maybe that’s all I do want, but maybe I want to smell the coconut smell her hair has when she lays next to me. I hated spooning; it wasn’t my thing. Her hair is was scratchy and I didn’t like how it felt on my face. I don’t know how it feels now. Her hair, that is. Maybe he does.
She’ll leave her phone charger plugged in next to your bed in the middle of the day and after she leaves at night, just as a nice reminder she’s still there. It’s pink. There’s no way around it.
Her brain is constantly a mess, she’ll want to dance in the rain and she’ll want you to be romantic. I can’t be her kind of sweetness; I can’t be her kind of bitterness. When she’s bitter, your friends will pucker from the taste.
She’s terrible at math. She’s the only mathematician who says sometimes 12 times 12 may not equal 144 (only while doing it in her head) but she doesn’t have any proof as to why yet. I more than helped her with any math-based homework. But when she writes, the world silences. Her words come off the page and nestle in the corners of your mind. You will remember those words long after she has forgotten about you. If she ever wants to write about you, don’t let her. It’s a trick.
She will always shift in her seat when you tilt your phone away from her. That’s my fault I guess. But I didn’t want to fight. She told me she was leaving because I broke her heart, and I believe her. But we knew it was coming. I loved her but I lost her. Not here, not that day a few months ago- she had stopped loving me a long time ago.