By Jane Rain
Date: 2011 Dec 15
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If Only

we had just gotten back together
the awkwardly polite phase still fresh.
we were living in a house my parents owned
that i would own someday.
one frigid nite he informed me
this isn't working.
i needed to leave.
this did not evoke any emotion
from either of us.
he watched as i packed my things.
was this to hurry me along?
to ensure i didn't linger?
in any case,
i didn't have many belongings
so what time we had left was brief.
we stood there in silence.
waiting for someone to speak.
he carefully took off his sweatshirt
and handed it to me with no instruction.
i took it (with much chagrin)
and said
fuck you very much.
he asked
did you just say "fuck you"?
i replied with
no. that's the last thing i'd ever say to you.
he walked me outside
but not quite to my car.
he stayed on the walkway
close to the porch
there's safety in distance i suppose.
i backed my car out of the driveway
rolled down my window
and with him watching me
i stretched my arm out the window
my middle finger proudly extended
and i yelled
fuck you, dan!
i then proceeded to drive off
feeling proud of my actions.
i did not look back.


i wake up and think
if only i were that brave.