"You let me look through your record collection and told me, ‘Most people think they’re outdated and silly to buy.’ You let me laugh at your cartoons. You let me borrow your favorite books and drink Coca Cola on your back porch. But when I tried to study the scribbled out drawings hanging above your desk, you pulled me down. You said, ‘That’s not for you to see.’ No, it was always, “Come on, let’s go somewhere”, as if we ever ended up anywhere but parked in a field or a dark street or the back of a restaurant. I didn’t mind, I was dying to get close to you, and pressing my skin to yours in a stuffy car was the only way I could. Afterwards, I’d look at you with a big, child’s smile and you’d ask, “What? What’s wrong? Why are you smiling?” “Nothing,” I’d stammer, as I swallowed my feelings and pretended the way I felt about you was not threatening to spill out every time we kissed.
I spent the summer pulling on your paint-splattered jeans after touching you beneath your sheets. I spent the summer trying my hardest to be cool and not care, but I was so close to telling you how I felt each time you talked dirty to me. One night, while you were drunk across the continent, you typed, “I love you, I love you, I love you” and I, sober and smiling, replied, “Oh God, finally.” But in the morning, you were forgetful, an amnesiac. You erased the incident, so I took a deep breath and finally erased you. I spent the summer undressing you, wishing I could see more than what was beneath your clothes. You spent the summer keeping me at an arm’s length by refusing to get completely naked."
Falling In Love With Your Summer Fling | Lora Mathis (via soggypoetry)
Lora Mathis, you are most definitely amazing.