Summer isn't soon enough

I'm a month into school and I can't bring myself to do my homework. I can't bring myself to do anything other than pray that when I fall asleep I'll wake up and it will be summer. I'll wake up in a strange bed in a strange city and you'll be across from me, asleep with your glasses on like you always were.

Part of me is begging for summer to come because I'm clinging to a hope that doesn't exist. I'm going to appear in front of you and I'm going to need you to love me. I'm going to need you in a way that is frightening and desperate and part of me worries that you're going to run the other way and part of me knows I'll never say a word.

I wish I had the balls to chase you down and kiss you. I want to hold you and fall asleep next to you and know that I have a home again and it is wherever you are because part of me is going to stay with you for a long time. I don't know that I'll ever let go of who you were to me because it saved my life.

And now I have to save myself and I wish you were at least here to stroke my cheek and run your fingers through my hair and sigh softly against my neck because I'm terrified to find out that I can trust myself and rely on myself without someone's fingers intertwined with mine. If I succeed in this then I have surpassed them. I am suddenly in a world they never reached. I have to start writing my own script. I'm suddenly going to have to start making this up and I'm afraid someone will catch me in a lie. I'm afraid someone is going to realize I don't know what I'm doing.

Do you ever stop feeling like you're just faking it?
Because that's what I'm beginning to believe.
I just wish I could take your hand.
I wish you'd make it up with me.

I still miss her...

Today I was going through my photos and found my collection of pictures from the campaign.

In looking back not only are the final three weeks of the campaign a complete blur but in retrospect I know we worked so hard that we shot past all expectations. It was mind blowing.

I couldn't tell you what happened on any given day but I still smile when I remember the way she looked when she was exhausted and the way she insisted on sleeping with her glasses on. I laugh when I remember her enthusiasm and joy at every little thing. She was like a small child in her wonder. She is still amazing. It still hurts a little to remember saying goodbye.

I can't bring myself to tell the people who want to keep pushing and working to make for political change that I was never in this for them. I was never in this because it was my cause. I was never in the fight because I believed Obama mattered that much. I was always in it because I was hopelessly, painfully in love with her.

I gave up so much of myself because I loved her and believed in her. I still love her and believe in her but she's gone. She exists somewhere only in my memory and some far away place. She's off saving the world. A world of which I am not a part.

I know that everything I felt was unrequited and I'm childish for holding onto these memories and emotions but every once in a while I just miss her. I miss the way she believed in me with such unwavering conviction that she stood up for me against my superior and her subordinate.

I miss what she was to me not what she was in reality. I haven't seen or heard from her in months. I wish her all the happiness in the world. She deserves all that and so much more for making me believe in so many things.

You're still here

Sometimes, when I'm really exhausted
when I haven't slept in what feels like days
and my nerves have been worn threadbare
I remember you.

I remember the way you laughed and scrunched your nose.
I remember how your favorite word was amazing
everything in the world was amazing
and I remember asking you what you were like
when you saw something truly amazing
and you told me you thought everything really was amazing.

that was amazing.

I miss you but I can't tell you that because you weren't You.
You were an idea. You are an idea.

What you are to me is something that doesn't really exist
but this fallacy is born of your reality.
I want to thank you but I can't thank you for being
the symbol I needed, the sign, the light, the thing you never saw.

I'm so proud of you.
You've changed the world.
At least my world.

And now look at you. Standing atop the hill so many struggle to climb.
so far ahead of where I would even aspire to be,
You rarely seem to look back.
I often wonder if you lie when you mention missing me.

I can't open my eyes because the sun is too bright but I try.
the tears stream down my face as I struggle to see you clearly.
eventually I'll stop.
eventually I'll give up.
eventually I'll admit you're gone. That you don't remember.
That it's over.

But now, when I close my eyes tight
when my breathing evens and I am finally still,
in those moments I lose track of the line between
those things that are real
and those things that exist only in my dream.

and then I let myself believe
You're still here.







It's always a bad sign when the name Maude Gonne comes to mind.