My therapist said i like experiences

Since when did my trans ex addict partner – become an experience

A ride, a site to see, something to try

A commodity to be bought & sold

Just one of those things you can’t miss –

I’d disagree, because i really really miss you

The way your vulnerability was your weakness –

That i watched you turn into your power

Your struggles ammunition – in a gun you always kept in your back pocket

My lips on yours a feeling you’d grew accustomed to –

knowing they’d be there even if you fired that gun at

Every, other, one of my

Body parts

Waiting, hoping, praying you’d plant yours against mine again

Ignoring the bleeding wounds, flowing pain into this sidewalk pavement we called a relationship

Made up of missteps and missed music festivals, ditched dates and promises too whole for broken you to keep

You chew up my words in your wad of gum, spit it loudly on that sidewalk –

and waited for me to step in it – your actions saying i deserve this – your empty apology pretending I didn’t

Playing a game honesty runs from – a truck it sees coming and turns around sprinting – knowing this will never end well – too real & raw for people like us to survive

-the truck swerved – went onto the pavement

-it ran over my toes –

And you jumped into the passenger seat – leaving me to heal myself, walking home limping, not sure which way was right – to follow you (and this truck) or to bolt in the other direction

I tried to do both – playing a dance with my curled, fractured toes – running away first, then back to the truck – and you – a pain i’d become addicted to

My feet gave out from under me – right in the middle of you — and everything else i knew i deserved — i didn’t even know which way to look –
So i sit – healing – till one path makes sense

…

Soya Bean is a writer and lovesick human who lives between the San Francisco Bay Area and New York City. She spends her days writing shitty aphorisms and drinking excessive amounts of tea.