When Love Dies

When love dies, there is no parade.
No one holds your hand and tells you it’s going to be alright, and if they did you didn’t hear it.
Like a bad guest, it doesn’t even announce its departure.
Rather you come across it one day, as you are picking up some socks.

When love dies, it does not wait its turn.
It does not wait for both parties to stop loving.
Nor does it tell you how to prepare for the passing.

Rather, you stumble through the planet with the same confusion of a baby learning to walk.
There are no maps or directions.
It doesn’t even leave you change for the bus.

When love dies, it does not care how good you were,
or how many times you dived in, not even knowing how to swim, in order to save it.

When love dies, it only cares about freeing itself.
It tiptoes out and leaves no note.

So you make do.
You act like there is not a piece of yourself missing
And you accept the clichéd advice
Because you have no better rules to follow.

When love dies, it takes piece of you with it.
But soon in that hollow space new things emerge.
At first it’s just weeds.
You hack away.

When love dies, you learn to accept your place in the order of things.
When love dies, you learn to save the only person you could save.

Thank you, too

I had no words to say last night when you thanked me. Now I can't say them, except for here.

Thank you for...

making me feel giddy and showing me that I could be that person that sings in public

for introducing me to enrique bunbury and shock top and all of those incredible movies

for holding me that night you saw one of my first panic attacks

for holding my mother's hand as she went into surgery

for staying up with me to talk about nonsense and the world and us

for falling asleep in my bed and kissing the back of my neck when you thought I was asleep

for that amazing sex

for telling me I'm amazing

for allowing yourself to be vulnerable and allowing me to do the same

for challenging me when I was wrong and communicating with me

for loving me when you could

for teaching me to cry, really cry

for teaching me trust, and teaching me to know when to stop

for teaching me to let go

and again for loving me

thank you for loving me