10. All The Fixins

[gunwithoutmusic]

"Thank You"
349 words. Approximate reading time: 1 minute, 44 seconds. Audio version here.

Do you remember
The first time we crawled through
Your bedroom window
To sit on the roof?
We played Emmylou Harris
On your cheap turntable
And watched the people
Playing tennis across the street.

We didn’t talk much,
Just sat and listened and watched.
Emmylou may have
Stumbled into Grace,
But I was too busy
Stumbling into love
To think about Grace myself.

Do you ever recall
The first time we pressed ourselves together
In your twin bed,
The shock of our sudden love affair
Leaving us with no choice,
Forcing us into pretzels,
And sleeping like that?

Do you think about
The birthday trip to
That German restaurant,
The car getting a flat
On the side of the highway,
And that guy we both found cute
Helping us put on the spare?

Or our first Thanksgiving,
When we were so proud
Of being Adults?
It was the first time you
Cooked a turkey,
And I made non-traditional sides
Because we were just
Special, “cooler” than our parents
With their non-brined turkeys
And their non-fried green beans.

Do you ever ruminate
On the time that Charley came in,
All winds and rain,
Flooding our coastal town
And trapping us in our living room
Without water, or air conditioning,
But with open windows
And the first season of
The Pretender on DVD?

Do you remember
Any of the things that
Linger in my mind?

Do you remember me?

I wanted to reach out,
To find you again,
To see how you’ve been,
But mostly to see
If you think of me
With the same frequency that
I think of you.

I wanted to be strong,
A person I had never been.
I wanted to be brave,
I wanted to be funny,
I wanted to let you know
How much you touched me,
And to find out
If I did the same for you.

I wanted to see
If my presence in your history
Was a bright and shining spot
Or if the pages of that chapter
Had been closed forever,
Left to gather dust
Beside the other memories
That never cross your mind.

I wanted to reach out
And tell you.

So I did.

I swallowed my fear
And I moved myself
To the place and time
Where we were together,
Where you changed me,

Where you helped me
Create a life that I could be proud of,
Where you helped me
Learn that love was not futile,
Where you helped me
Be a better man than I could have been alone.

I told you everything,
And waited for you to
Tell me everything, too.

But you replied, “Thank you,”
And I knew.

Comments

[adoptedwriter]

So many brilliant images and glimpses into the life of your relationship here. Well done!

[gunwithoutmusic]

Thank you - this is referencing my first "real" boyfriend from years and years ago (gosh, around 18 years ago, now that I think about it). I have lots of really good memories of that time, and I'm always sharing them with people and thinking about those good times, and what a profound effect they had on me as a person. I always find myself wondering if the people that made a huge difference in my life ever think the same thing about me.

A few months ago I was thinking about the fact that no one's ever approached me and said to me, "Hey, you know you really were a super-important part of my life, and even though that time is gone, I still think about you fondly from time to time."

But then I realized that I've never really done that to anyone, either. So I looked him up and reached out and let him know that he really made a world of difference to me and I feel like I wouldn't be the person I am without him in my past, selfishly hoping that he'd reciprocate. He didn't (he just said it's been such a long time and he doesn't really think about me that much), and I started writing this poem based on that, and the prompt kind of pushed me to thinking about it more and I finished it up. :)

[adoptedwriter]

That sux that he wasn’t more receptive. ☹️ At least it lead to a really amazing writing piece.

[alycewilson]

Oh, ouch. That ending hurts so much. I think this is one of your best.

[gunwithoutmusic]

Thank you :) It did kind of sting when it happened, but I got a nice poem out of it, and a little life lesson in not being selfish when offering gratitude.

[murielle]

Oh!
And I was going along, marveling at the beauty of your remembered first love and feeling the warmth and the joy and then...

The last line and I cringed all the way to my soul.

I remember saying "Thank you."

I didn't know what to say. It was too fast, too much, too soon.

As always, beautifully written, beautifully spoken. Absolutely beautiful.

[gunwithoutmusic]

Thank you :) It was selfish of me, expecting anything in return, I realize now. I shouldn't have reached out only expecting a "you really changed my life, too." I should have reached out just to let him know how I felt and not expected anything, and going into it with that expectation made it hurt more. But you live and you learn! Every interaction I have with anyone else teaches me to be a little more patient, a little more receptive, a little more caring and a little more selfless, and as long as I can take these lessons learned and turn them into something nice, I'm happy with that.

[murielle]

I think you're too hard on your younger self. It was natural to hope that your feelings would be returned in kind. But, we do grow and we do learn, and as we get older we learn to temper our expectations.

As for me, there is part of me recoiling in horror as my memory wars between a response of "thank you" and "that's nice, dear." (Headdesk!)

[murielle]

Oh my!

I misunderstood. I thought this happened during your relationship. This is...horrible.

Oh how I wish graciousness was something they taught in High School. Seriously!

[gunwithoutmusic]

Oh, yeah, this was fairly recent - I went through a lot of personal growth during Idol last season and I decided it was important to let people know exactly how I feel about them (I still think that's important, but it's more of an "in the moment" thing now). It was one of those things where we had "kind of" reconnected a few years earlier, but the extent of it was looking him up on Instagram and following him, and he followed me back. But aside from liking some of each other's posts, we didn't really interact, so I said, "I'm going to reach out and let him know how I feel!" but, again, it was almost more about hearing from someone else what a difference I made in their life, not about letting him know what a difference he made in my life, so it definitely stung when I didn't hear what I wanted to hear.

But at the same time, I did say what I wanted to say and I hope that he appreciated what he meant to me, and I hope he appreciated hearing from someone what a difference he made. I still hope that one day, someone from my past comes up to me and says that I made some sort of positive difference in their life, because I'd like to know (I think we all would) that we are capable of touching someone in that way. But I'm not going searching for it anymore, because it doesn't really work that way. :)

[flipflop_diva]

Oh, wow. This poem is amazing. I think it might be your best yet! I love how sweet and happy the beginning is, with just the right amount of melancholy and nostalgia, but then the end is such a horrible, painful gut punch.

I did start off thinking you were writing about your husband, but I realized near the end it was a different love. Which made it more powerful once I knew that. Because I think we all have those moments of our life with someone (either romantic or just platonic) where things were just good and happy and looking back on it with lots of time past just makes it more wistful (of course, sometimes, looking back on it from afar also can make things seem better than they were because it's easy to not remember so clearly the un-good moments). Especially when the person is not really part of your life anymore.

I'm glad you decided not to opt out and wrote this instead, because this is great!

[gunwithoutmusic]

Thank you! I do look back on that time in my life (late-teens and early-twenties) with rose-colored glasses sometimes. I sometimes look back and think, "God, things were just so EASY then!"

And in some ways, they were. And in some ways, they weren't. The good times do tend to stick with us, so it's really easy to think that life was so much better back then, but I do have to actively remind myself sometimes, "Remember all the times you had to dig through the couch cushions for a handful of quarters to put gas in your car because you spent all your money on booze and had nearly a week left until payday? Remember all those times you had to drive down to the power company to pay the bill because your roommate FINALLY got paid and you could cover the bill, but you had to go in person because they shut your electricity off a week before? Remember all that crappy shit you had to deal with too?"

Because there are many, many times when I think to myself, "I would just love to go back to living that free-wheeling Bohemian lifestyle, working just enough to (mostly) cover my bills and spending my free time making art and music and writing stories."

But when I really remember what all of that entails, I tend to think twice. Old times were good for the most part, but new times are good too, in different ways.

[bleodswean]

Mmmmm. So much beauty and sentimental remembrance only to be brought up short with a cold present that clearly indicates some sort of disconnect. HUGS

[gunwithoutmusic]

*hugs* Oh, thank you for reading and for this comment. :) I know needs must but I am sad that I don't see your name on the polls anymore.

[halfshellvenus]

Oh, there's such a lovely, bittersweet feeling to this. All of the unfolding and stretching into love, into new experiences, into adulthood. This is a time in our lives that haunts us somehow, decades later. Not all of it goes well or smoothly, but it can be so vivid, so edged by emotion.

But then there's that "ouch" of an ending, finding out that a time and relationship that mattered so much to us (and still does, even if for just nostalgic reasons) has not left so great a footprint on the heart of that other person. And that divide hurts, even all those years later.

Lovely.