it's such a relief that you aren't my problem anymore. a relief that i'm not wandering the empty streets in my mind, circling blocks the diameter of a planet, wondering where you are and if you've forgotten me.

now i already know you have. these days, you aren't my worry. let someone else have it.

this weekend i was on the dance floor, wearing his jacket as the air plummeted from the daytime 96 degrees, managing the electric slide in three-inch heels and wine in my veins, and i thought of how this never would have been you and me. you never would have tried, never bumped into me, delirious, whispering "you're so perfect" in my ear, never drove all the way back to the room with not a clue where we were going. not you.

sometimes, we all have to thank god for unanswered prayers.

[but know that] i wouldn't mind your voice on the line, driving out west of st louis for the weekend to come pick apples with me and sit under the trees playing songs you've never sang before, while i close my eyes and lean back against a world the way it should have been before everything moved too fast.