Shared Spaces
1.
At a bodega in Williamsburg, I tucked myself by the chips, waiting for my chopped cheese. A group of teenage boys piled in. A man with a bull dog. A jogger on their phone. A hot guy in a leather jacket who was blonde and had your nose. He went straight to the counter and smiled at me while he bought cigarettes. Made sure to nod when he passed by to leave.
2.
In a dream the other night, we were sitting across each other at a table, our hands moving conversationally between us. We were talking, but I couldn’t hear anything that was said. I don’t know why this feels important, but there were empty mugs in front of us. It felt like I was telling you everything and your eyes were saying I was there the whole time! I woke up with this odd feeling that I had missed your call, but of course that wasn’t the case.
3.
9PM. Red and blue concert venue lighting. Black coffee, no refills. Cardigans. Orange marigolds on the street. Orange marigolds whenever I travel. Laughter; the kind that is just two people in a crowded room. That playlist I made for you where I told you I will change the picture if you are uncomfortable and you said I DON’T WANT YOU TO and I still can’t bring myself to delete it. Hugs. That bit we had where we say hi and shake hands, then pretended to show ourselves out, even though we had just arrived. Labeling each other’s outfits. Once, you described it as if a girl from the entire 90s were to time travel to now and was given a credit card with a limit of $400. Movie quotes, like that scene in La La Land where Sebastian goes I got the bulleeeeetttts! Poppyseed muffins. Your hands dusting the crumbs.
4.
My therapist said to me gently you are searching for something that has forever changed and for 1 hour, I was given the space to miss you.