today, i choose to unmake the memory of us
with the caution of someone who loves you, honestly
the way my mother’s callused fingers unraveled my long hair, one braid at a time
before i decided i prefer my hair six inches shorter
before i learn what lightness tastes like
it’s kind of a funny story;
the way the human brain remembers a cherry-picked basket of good memories
the kind that make us want to stay,
dig our toes so deep into sinking sand and
make a home out of the loss.
it’s kind of a tragic story; our cognitive ability to compartmentalize our hurt, swallow it whole and spit ourselves out:
or at the very least unassuming.
it’s kind of an impossible story;
how the human brain can will the rest of us into a deceptive sense of satisfaction,
convince our hearts to, just, take it. and be okay at the end of it all.
memory attempts to compensate for love, sometimes successfully.
a steady, immovable fixture of a body and soul.
a man whose eyes can hold the entire meaning of the universe, on some days.
i remember us, incorrectly, but it is the only way I can recall the ruins without becoming one.
i dream myself up as open: a ripened piece of stone fruit
whose stubborn pit you managed to carve out--
make room for love to grow instead.
i recount myself stronger,
more truthful with myself, with you too.
and i, less of a coward, unwilling to rock a sinking boat.
in this version you know exactly what I want because I tell you
i imagine always uttered into the emptiness where only our breaths and hesitation lay intertwined,
you see, my memories are ironed out in places where they have no business being such
i pencil in joy where heartache was once scribbled out
i make something more fulfilling out of all the pieces we gave up for each other
i forget that a love is possible where one says to the other:
here. take me, all of me. (yes this beating heart too)
i know you will leave me full, anyway.
today, i choose clarity over distortion.
i choose to see all of our shortcomings and failures in full color,
and keep my eyes open wide through it all.
i choose a memory that tells an honest story,
i do not smile through it all but i remember to live through the ache.
to love through it, even.