a letter to the new girl
When he leaves you, you will barely see it coming.
When he gets drunk on a Wednesday night
and hits his head on railings
he will not tell you about it.
If you witness it,
pretend you didn’t.
He will never talk about it.
Remember that he loved her first.
Do not forget that it was her body he met before ours.
He hasn’t. Remember that you are not his first choice.
If you were an investor, I would tell you to sell your stock in him.
The value may be up right now, but it won’t last.
You will be left with empty pockets and empty memories.
I know that he’s charming. I know that he’s a talented liar.
A politician in the making.
I know that you want to believe the words he throws at you.
You mean a lot to me. Honestly. Ok?
Maybe when he says them to you, he will mean it.
I hope that he does.
But if he leaves you
you will not see it coming.
You will feel it like a dodgeball to the gut.
I can tell you that your breath will come back.
That it took me two months
but I no longer miss him.
Sometimes I smell cigarette smoke
and remember him
but it doesn’t burn anymore.
I can tell you
that both me and her
are with other boys.
And though I no longer remember her phone number
every time I see her
she seems happy.
I have never known a person that felt like home before
but the boy I’m with does.
I hope that if you cannot find a home in him
because he does not allow people
to build a space in his heart
that you find someone that will
not only let you
but will hand you the hammer and nails.
All The Best,
November through January