i keep having these dreams where you are obviously in love with me. then the next night i discover something i can not explain. i wish i could tell you how wonderful it was, but i would ruin it. but i can't have both. it's either the beautiful scenery or your admiration. on the night with the scenery, last night, i sit in your kitchen and you tell me to hold on. i keep my eyes fixed on the window and what's behind it. the first thing i see at the end off the hall is your hand holding a braceleted wrist. you don't introduce us, she and i just start talking and you make a toasted peanut butter and jelly. she stands really close to me. she's blonde. she is very thin with ver small breast. she has classes and a pretty mouth. i talk to her over my shoulder, back turned halfway. it is so awkward, i'm aware, but i cannot seem to face her. she doesn't know what happened last night in my dream. and they are all dreams so why does it matter? but it does.
i can't be this person who some other girl was to me, but i am.
i don't even know if you have a girlfriend, but i know what she looks like.
the two of you talk openly, and with that slight tension that only couples who have been through the winter together can create.
i wake up in the morning and crumple the letter i wrote you last night.