The Life and Times of Expo

Questions? | Archive | Poetry! | Prose | Photos Expedito | 22 | College Senior | New Jersey Potterhead, Tribute, HOBY Alumnus, Dancer, Nerdfighter, Sherlockian, Clone Club Member

[expd2]

He says my questions are too conversational.

He says that doesn't have time to answer them.

That he's too busy to tell me how his morning is going. Or what his plans are for the day.

Questions to him that aren't pressing enough to require a response.

So I came up with a list of questions that may be worthy enough for him to answer:

Did you mean it when you said I'm 95% of what you want in someone?

Did you mean it when you said you want me in your life forever?

Did you mean it when you said I was beautiful?

Did you mean it when you said you'd love travel the world with me?

How many times do you have to apologize about not answering me before you decide disappearing is easier?

Are you going to dissapear?

When?

—Expedito Segovia, "Answers"

[expd2]

We made out under the tree of his elementary school playground. He slurred his words when he asked,  "What do we do moving forward?" Each syllable soaked in alcohol. He was in an open relationship.  His boyfriend was all the way on the other coast, but his presence was so heavy it felt like he was the one asking the question. It felt like I wasn't the one being asked either. So I told him what I tell every boy who treats me like temporary shelter: "We're just friends, right?

Expedito Segovia, “Just Friends”

[expd2]

How do you tell someone you share everything in common but nothing at the same time? How do you tell someone a such paradox without leaving them confused and hurt? How do you break someone’s heart and tell them they did everything right? How do you tell someone they are perfect but not quite perfect enough?

Expedito Segovia, "?"

[expd2]

Nothing quite hurts like bad timing. When every element is right; His smile, his jokes, his favorite shows, his perfectly placed words. But it still doesn't work out.  Like a carefully made pie that sat in the oven for too long. It could've been something special,  but now you'll never know.

Expedito Segovia, “It’s All in the Timing”

[expd2]

Snow has a way of making me remember my place.

A sea of whiteness blankets my neighborhood. As I look out the window, it's all see. As I step out, it's all I can touch.

Sometimes, I think it's telling me I don't belong here.

That it's here to remind me of who I am.

To remind me that where I'm from we don't get this overwhelming chill.

The snow reminds me that I'm an immigrant.

I wasn't born to brace this kind of cold.

But I've learned to, everyday.

-Expedito Segovia, "Snow"

[expd2]

I've always treated tragedy like cake. I thought that if I share it with more people, it would disappear quicker. Slice it up into tiny little pieces and give it to people who will listen. I thought that it would lessen the blow, that I would get the healing I needed. But it hasn't made much of a difference. Cutting it up evenly was much harder than I anticipated. There were complaints when other people got bigger slices. Had more of the cake. Got more frosting. Knew more of the tragedy than they did. My mistake was treating my misfortunes like dessert at a dinner party instead of the plates they are placed on. Only a few will volunteer to wash the dishes. Those are the ones you share your tragedies with. They are the ones you will help you clean up whatever mess your life is in.

Expedito Segovia, "Dessert Plates"

[expd2]

I still replay that night every once in a while. Everytime I do, I feel like I'm betraying myself. You certainly don't deserve a rewatch. But here I am, still wondering if I did something wrong. Was the wine I brought too cheap? Did I speak too much or too little? Was I supposed to respond to your weird remarks about your hair? Was staying over a mistake? Was kissing you the morning after your way of saying goodbye? I don't know. But what I do know is you still texted me for two straight weeks after, texts when we were both drunk, texts trying to plan something with our busy schedules, texts about how insane our world has become. Then one day you didn't. I insisted for over three weeks that you were just busy, that's why you didn't respond. Too busy with work or with school, I thought to myself. But after three weeks, I had enough, I decided to send you a message. Tell you off. I told you how much it hurt and how I was robbed of peace of mind for weeks. How I was not disposable. How I didn't understand how you could just drop someone. You responded with one sentence. You said we shouldn't talk anymore, you said you've just been too busy. No apologies, no explanations. Ghosting is what they call it nowadays. An apt term, I would say. You still haunt me to this very day, your actions lingering like a phantom in any relationship I try to start. You've left me wondering if the others will eventually become ghosts too.

Expedito Segovia, "Ghosts"

[expd2]

Ours was a summer love that tried to brace the autumn chill. We tried, we really did. But we couldn't stop the seasons from changing. We didn't have that kind of power. I wish I could tell you that we could start over once it gets warm again. I wish I could tell you that it was only the seasons that changed.

Expedito Segovia, "Seasons"

[expd2]

Sometimes moving on looks like damp tissues littered all over your bedroom floor. Sometimes it's making yourself eggs, sunny side up, even if it’s past midnight. Sometimes it's hugging yourself, and swaying to the sound of your favorite song. Sometimes it is your little sister asking you why you're crying and you realizing your answer isn't him. Sometimes it is the gentle caress of your mother, a reminder that she didn't sacrifice so much for you to be sad over a boy who doesn't matter. Moving on takes on many forms, it is a skilled shapeshifter, capable of folding itself within moments of your life. Don't betray it by telling it what it should look like.

Expedito Segovia, "Moving On"

[expd2]

You tried me on like freshly bought clothes you had no intention of keeping. The warmth felt nice. I can't deny that. I haven't been touched like that in forever. But I am not clothing you can just return to the store when you're tired of me. I'm not clothing that you can just hang up in your closet, waiting for the next time you'll take me out.  You're mistake was assuming I'd just play along, that I don't mind being stuck in the closet. Unwanted, ready to be chucked in some bottom drawer when a new set of clothing comes along. I am not clothing, you don't own me. I hope you'll realize the others aren't either.

Expedito Segovia, “Clothing” 

[expd2]

Maybe I should stop looking for company in people who only want me for my body. Only want me for the warmth they've been craving, only want me for the intimacy they've been missing. All body, no soul. All kisses, no talk. But some part of me thinks I want that too. That maybe I just haven't perfected the craft of detachment. When you're so good at using other people's fires, that you forget someone has to keep that going.  That someone is burning just to keep themselves alive. And you're just there witnessing it all. Feeling nothing but the pleasure of the heat. Knowing full well you have no desire to fuel the fire. I wish I was that person, but I know too damn well how hard it is to stay warm enough to feel alive. I know too damn well what it takes to feel anything at all.

Expedito Segovia, “Burning”

[expd2]

You said you were only looking for friends. You said you'd be too busy for anything serious. You said you are looking to just settle in. Well, I guess I wasn't the exception.

Expedito Segovia, “Exception”

[expd2]

What a weird feeling it is to make new friends but feel lonelier than ever. It's as if the company of others isn't enough to fill you.

[orzesc]

[cannon-fannon]

THIS SPEAKS TO ME ON A MOLECULAR LEVEL RIGHT NOW.

[tjspider]

You are witnessing a broken human being

[mauridianhallow]

This is actually me like constantly now

[sidevilde]

The older I get the more I identify with this when I come across it

[gwynething]

I just got a new humidifier and I am fuckin’ pumped

[expd2]

Same

[orzesc]

[cannon-fannon]

THIS SPEAKS TO ME ON A MOLECULAR LEVEL RIGHT NOW.

[tjspider]

You are witnessing a broken human being

[mauridianhallow]

This is actually me like constantly now

[sidevilde]

The older I get the more I identify with this when I come across it

[gwynething]

I just got a new humidifier and I am fuckin’ pumped

[expd2]

I once thought the saddest thing was when friendships end. But I've recently realized that they aren't so bad. It's when your left in this weird in-between that the worst. When you don't even know where you both stand. When the pavement is uneven but still walkable. The sky is a bit cloudy but the sun still pokes through sometimes. You still text but the conversations are empty. It feels like you both just do it to make sure neither of you are dead. It's when friendships are fading. That's the saddest thing. When you know it's not the end but it might as well be.

Expedito Segovia, "Fading"

[ramrambolton]