does god hate me

on falling in & out of love with a poet

“I care about you,”

Hayes looks at me as he says this

It’s a Wednesday afternoon

And he’s not drunk yet

So it feels like he means it

We just spent 36 hours together

And it felt like the world was ending when we woke together our second morning and he said seeing each other long term didn’t feel very sustainable

“I’m a rollercoaster and you,

You’re a morning car ride to McDonald’s with my grandmother.”

I knew it was true

But I was dying

I’d never connected with someone so emotionally, so deeply and so quickly

I hadn’t looked at anyone else for two days straight

We saw each other

in every sense of the word

Overnight he became my Notre Dame

My Sainte-Chapelle

It was sacred

“You’d never know what to expect with me, Hannah. It would drive you crazy.”

“But what about me to you? Is there any part of me that appeals to you?” I stab back

“Of course. You are warm. I feel safe with you. I’ve told you more things about my life than I have my best friend in the entire world.

But you’d get exhausted by my drinking. And I am emotionally vacant.”

BUT WE JUST EXPERIENCED A WILDFIRE TOGETHER

I wanted to scream

I cried instead

I guess that’s what happens when two writers meet

He drank me up as soon as he saw me

& I him

Inseparable

Magical

And extremely

Tortured

My own Matty Healy except better, hotter and more attentive than he will probably ever be

But drinks the same (every day)

Rolls his own cigarettes

And even though he knew I didn’t,

asked if I wanted one anyway

---

What am I supposed to do with the memory of this man

choking me out

everything is gray

everything is boring

without him

He did not come to take away the pain

in fact, he inflicted it

He inflicted it when he said he would never love again

when i left and he unfollowed me on instagram

as if i was nothing

as if the hours we spent together were

a county fair

that you never go to anymore because you got too old and you don’t care

What am I supposed to do with the memory of this man?

Hope he shows up in a year or two?

Hope he changes

Hope he writes me a million apologies

What am I supposed to do with the memory of this man?

He told me every single story

All his fears and plans

As if were going to make it out alive somehow together, even if it just ended us as friends

What am I supposed to do with the memory of this man?

I want to be burned alive

I want to rid myself of him

But I can’t

Not when everything he said was a crater

A song

A poem

Not when everything he said, he meant

Not when he laid down next to me and earnestly asked who I am

What am I supposed to do with the memory of this man?

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