music is my boyfriend
musical theatre major
point park university
of another era
born and raised in the city of angels
The little dark corner in the back of my mind was yours. I never intended to give you any room at all, let alone your own corner. I don’t think you meant to take that much, either. But so easily a fleeting thought or uncategorized memory can carve out a little space of its own. And you found your space in that little dark corner in the back of my mind.
You were a brave little soldier; standing guard and occupying the space without fail. You never once strayed from your post. All day long you paced and sat and moved in that little dark corner. You never slipped away even for a moment. You stayed there in uniform-shirtless, in those old shorts. For countless days.
But sometimes, as it turns out, the countless can be counted. An infinite, endless amount of time can be quantified in a measure of pain. And lend itself to a familiar, almost lovely, dull ache. Not overwhelming. Not enveloping. But there. A pulsing, throbbing sad little corner that has become a hole. Another hole to remind you that you’re alive.
Years go by and I feel you pace inside your cavernous corner. And one day I’m sitting in a cafe and you are standing there in front of me. Expectantly. I’ve watched you for years but I never expected to see you again. You apologize but you are not sure you remember my name. And I feel your dark cave that was once a hole that was once just a dusty corner, obliterate my entire sense of self as I watch my heart fall through the table.
- Jenny Lester