Hey, Nik.

I'm really glad you're here.

[maybeiamwater]

Scroll all the way down, no cheating.

[maybeiamwater]

Endlessly proud of you.

[maybeiamwater]

Wow, I really had misremembered Bluets as something romantic up until this reread (literally 8 years).

Bluets is heartbreaking. It’s about loss and missing, not romance. Yikes.

But of course, I remembered it in a pink haze of love because that’s how I asked you out (that and the heart shaped pizza). I was returning the copy you lent me, wrote it in the back and told you the last line was my favorite. You looked right then, like I’d hoped.

Is this time’s kind editing? Maybe.

Maybe it’s a metaphor for therapy and finally seeing things clearly.

Maybe it doesn’t mean anything at all. Neither does the color blue I guess.

Except it does, and that’s the whole point.

[maybeiamwater]

Listened to Elliot Page’s memoir Pageboy and he references Bluets three times. Of all the books.

Bought a paperback copy. Rereading it now.

[maybeiamwater]

I’ve never been able to just look before. Always had to run directly at what I wanted, couldn’t help myself. Always thought this was a strength.

It’s a blessing to stand still. It’s a gift to look.

[maybeiamwater]

I am happy for you and your partner. You deserve security, longevity, and all the things you want.

I am also sad because I’m aware of this loss, and that is good. I don’t want to change this sadness.

Both are true.

Still your cheerleader from afar.

[maybeiamwater]

This place feels much better than where we’ve been.

Thank you again.

[maybeiamwater]

Something has shifted and settled. The foundation is smoother now.

I’ll miss you forever and that feels good.

[maybeiamwater]

I could get the word “kept” tattooed on my knuckles.

I could send a voice message and make it number 3.

I could look through my photos and feel different.

I could fly into the sun.

I could cry from happiness and anxiety.

I could send you a text and you’d answer.

[maybeiamwater]

So I Said - After Nikki Burian

So I said "I still love you but maybe finally for the first time" and you're the only person who will understand what I mean.

And I thought about that movie 13 Going on 30 where they wake up at the end and it's all a dream or a spell or a wish and they get the impossible gift of starting from the beginning with all the wisdom of the end.

If I could go back and be ready…if I could go back and unhurt you…

The point of this poem isn't to tell you what I'd do if I could redo the past, the point is to tell you I'm finally ready for a future.

I've woken up and I know nobody will believe what I’m saying so I swear on everything, handsome, I will show you.

Just so you know

in that movie they end up together.

[maybeiamwater]

I’m in another country and I can’t stop checking your Instagram.

You’d love it here

And here

And here.

[maybeiamwater]

I hope JP Saxe can’t see how many times I’ve listened to his songs.

[maybeiamwater]

#workinonit

[maybeiamwater]

I know when you think of me.

It’s like we’re both flipping through TV channels and for a moment we land on the same station. Each other.

Suddenly you’re there in the center of my mind and I know.

[maybeiamwater]

"You have to go back to the beginning to understand the end."

Meredith finally left. She's in Boston.

She's in Boston, I'm in therapy.

For so long she was in the same place, itching to leave. She knew her location didn't fit anymore. It held too many bad memories, it had for years. She was stuck in the familiarity of trauma, built a life around it. Mostly made it work.

I get that.

Allison and I used to watch Grey's together, it's how our relationship began. We spent every Thursday night at her house. Sometimes I would leave school early just to get there sooner--hours before the actual show. Eventually we figured out that we were more than friends, that we were in love. Took us two full seasons--a grueling and beautiful slow burn.

The relationship only lasted about 8 months, but it was everything to me. I thought I had found my person. I begged her to "pick me, choose me, love me" and she didn't. She chose someone else. We were young. I don't blame her anymore.

I've been in emotional rerun mode for years. I have known for a long time that this place doesn't fit me. And so I'm leaving. Moving on to something new, like Dr. Grey.

19 seasons is long enough.

It took you leaving to help me do this. I know that was hard for you and I'm infinitely proud and grateful. Thank you, thank you, thank you.

Do you know what Mer's final episode was called?

"Follow The Sun".

Seriously.

[maybeiamwater]

Finally submitted a piece to Voicemail Poems.

Also, I let my best friend read all my finished work that I could find.

Small things/big things.

[maybeiamwater]

Maybe I’ll ask Nancy if she minds whether I draw some dinosaurs during our next session

Maybe Nancy will say, “no, Michelle, it’s time to stop stalling and do some EMDR” and I’ll say “okay, fair”

—“but what about after? Because that’s something they remember about me that I often forget myself, and Nancy, I often forget myself”

“Isn’t the whole point to find someone who remembers the best parts of you, even when you forget?”

“Bear with me, Nance, it’s a code. The dinosaurs would be a way to show them I am trying, that I am still (also) the good parts that they remember, even now.”

“They are one of the best parts of me, even now.”

“I probably can’t draw a dinosaur worth a damn these days, but I bet I’ll get better with practice.”