emotionally, i can’t go into winco

Tonight I sat under misters and ate fish and chips and told my friend about you. I just cannot get over it, I told her. You might not ever get over it, she said. I'm just being honest.

People ask me how I am and I say fine. Good. Normal. Not much going on. Staying busy, doing things. I went to the farmer's market today, sat with my friends by the pool. Tomorrow I'll meal prep and bake something and sage my room. I feel glimpses of peace, see flashes of beauty between sun-speckled leaves. But if someone were to look a little longer, ask me how my heart is and not look away, I would have no defense. I'm trying to put my world back together without judging myself or trying to find the logic behind why it feels like I keep putting the same puzzle piece in the same wrong spot. I can't explain it, should anyone ask. My frame of reference is different now, it will always include you, and if I had known that from the beginning I still would have turned down that dirt road, and listened to you talk about your ancestors, and placed my heart over yours while the energy fused between us. 

I know there are spells, cleanses. Juju. I know I can see a shawoman and steam you out of my yoni and cut every cord. I can practically hear you telling me to let you go so you can be free. Can't you see I'm trying? Don't you think I beg the universe every night before I fall asleep to release this yearning in me, if it's for naught? The universe listens to the heart, though, and the feeling of every late-night drive and motorcycle ride and stupid movie and pot of soup is still imprinted there.