i live alone

“will you move in with me?”

i felt so elated when the winds
blew from the east and
tickled me with endless possibilities 
of what lay beyond the horizon
that i couldn’t help but say yes
to your one bedroom studio apartment.
after all, 
infinity has to start somewhere.

at first, it was small, not intolerable.
we had enough love to make do
with a fold out couch and a mini fridge.
and we got out often,
each coffee shop visit a promise
returned to me by the morning sun
in the form of laughter and scones.

until a new feeling emerged,
sticky and scared and stiff as a board,
like a soggy stuffed scarecrow,
smothered by the rain.
coaxed out by your watchful eyes,
it took up residence in the pit of my stomach,
and only grew larger as time passed.

with this the apartment felt smaller,
and the rooms grew narrower every time i entered,
squeezing my soft innards until
i felt i couldn’t breathe.
but you never seemed to notice,
or perhaps you felt secure
in our home’s deadly cradle.

i longed for just one fresh breath of solitude,
one meal enjoyed by myself alone,
and i craned my neck,
in hopes of finding any escape from your loving embrace,
waiting for me around the corner.
there i found nothing.
you clung to me like a glob of bubblegum,
caught in the fibers of my hair.

two planets locked in a deadly orbit,
unable to escape their own gravity’s pull,
growing closer and closer,
spinning out of control,
until one was fated to destroy the other.
a desolate muddle of rock fragments and dust,
a responsibility i didn’t know how to bear.

i wanted more than anything,
to escape your tender prison,
fo flail my arms violently and call for help.
yet when we came face-to-face,
i could only reassure you that everything was alright,
because that was all my nature allowed for.
i’ve never been able to say no.

so i took a trip to the hardware store,
bought myself a hammer and a chisel,
and chipped away at your rocky layers,
wearing you down slowly,
until in a tired and wretched state,
you had no choice but to leave me.
“i’m sorry. i have to do this for my own good.”

so when you shoved me out of the building’s front door,
with two suitcases and a duffel bag,
and yelled at me to never return,
i sighed with relief,
stared at the sunset,
and imagined a life where the walls weren’t closing in on me.

from then on,
i lived alone.