Letters I Shouldn't Have Sent Him (Part 1)

Sean, before the power went out, but after I realized that power was energy and energy is never anywhere in particular, merely everywhere. Before this and after that, I took every story you ever sang and burned it to CD. I left the CD on the counter while I took a nap in the powerlessness of your apartment. When I woke up it was scratched to skipping and missing data. I never got to play it unscathed.

Sean, I'm not a great conversationalist. I'm an observant listener. My occasional witticism comes from knowing what people want to hear. My more common awkwardness comes from not saying it.

Sean, acting shallow does not make you interesting. Being pretty does not make you interesting. Those orange fucken curtains they hung at Central Park last year were pretty, but they didn't make it any more interesting or important to the people who value the park. They attracted tourists who just wanted to say they were there for an event, like the first guy who fucked Courtney Love after her plastic surgery.

Sean, you are not a tourist attraction. Focusing on making yourself more marketable rather than more talented is a waste. Put down the eyeliner. Put down the friends who only flock to you when you're being funny cruel. Pick up your guitar. Pick up a pen. Sit at your piano. They eyeliner will still be there after you write your greatest song. Your friends may not. You're better than them anyway.

Sean, the first night I stayed over your house, there was a baby pigeon struggling for life under your window. The second time I came by it was dead. Take a look at it. you said, while I ate oatmeal cookie ice cream, There are so many maggots crawling beneath its skin that it looks like it is still breathing. This didn't creep you out. What if they were crawling in your hair? I asked, and began messing with your hair. The only thing that creeps me out about the sensation is that it's your hands that are touching me.

Sean, I must have maggots under my skin. Sometimes it looks like I'm still breathing.

Sean, before I told you I loved you, but after I could tell that you knew. Between those two times you were griping about a fat kid who hit on you at some art party. You said Who does he think he is? He's like down there, and I'm like up here. Maybe he could call me if he lost 2/3rds of his weight. If we were the last people on Earth on a desert island I wouldn't let him touch me. I'd even make him turn away from me when I was getting dressed. I went to touch your back and remind you that you were fat in the not so distant past. You spun away from me as soon as our flesh made contact. From then on, I transferred every word about your "fattelite" to being about me. If it was us on that desert island, I wouldn't try to fuck you. But if I made to hold you, would you swim away?

Sean, I liked you better when you were fat.

Sean, your name is sliding out of me like hair. I won't cut it away because I'm afraid your name will grow thicker and darker on me.

Sean, I'm being too open. I've cracked my spine too much, and I don't close right.

Sean, I'm not broken. I've been acting glitchy because my batteries were running down. But then I remembered, power is everywhere. I scuffed my feet against carpet, drank vitamin water, ate carbs.

Sean, I'm running again. I don't know where, only not far. I've been in Quincy running food, running in the park, running over the last few weeks in my head. Last night before I left the bar, but after I knew I should, the last man I fell in love with before I met you came to talk to me. Without me telling him how chaotic this month has been, without even saying hello, he touched me in a place that you have, in a way I don't know if you're capable of. He said he missed me. I've missed him. If he kisses me....

Sean, it's not that I want to get over you. I want to get around you. You don't love me. You just want me to love you. I can't do that for anyone anymore.

Sean, I'm not writing anymore unrequited love poems for you or anyone. Desiderates. Longing. Wont not want. Desire. I have it all because I don't have any of it.