Going Home

I don't know what made me think of it, but I did. I woke up feeling like I needed to make a cake in my mind. Maybe I just wanted to pretend I had love that isn't there. I imagined two kinds, I pictured you putting it together with the kids. Sometimes, I pictured myself. I let it all go by the time I was moving about. I made a cup of coffee. I was in a good mood. I spent my day doing things I usually make an excuse about. I felt good. Later, I laid on my couch feeling anxious. I just needed to turn my brain off from thinking about you, but I couldn't. I called you and you didn't answer. The air felt clear and warm. You called me back and for no reason at all, you brought up the cake. I began to cry and I don't think I hid it well. You didn't say anything either way. They were big, hot, drops that were silent and deep. I was astonished after hearing about your work party. The one that happened the night I dreamt about a work party. I wrote about it. I wonder if you read it and knew. Maybe everything is just a coincidence. Maybe it's all meaningless. Or so they say. I don't think so. I think it all means something. It is a coincidence. A mass conjunction of similarities and synchronizations. Not just meant for us, but for anyone willing to pay attention. The next day I opened the door and looked to the left. I saw your favorite animal smiling and waving at me. I looked to the right as a woman in a bright yellow oversized hoodie with your favorite team embroidered on it get into the same make, model, and color of your car. The license plate was a mirror of numbers. There was a sticker to the college I'm in the process of signing up for. The one with my name. Okay, universe. Okay. I can only try to explain it. It is not like an obsession or trying to make a connection happen. It just is. It is the truth. It's just there. Constantly. Anytime I wonder if I'm wasting my time, I see the same thing. Even as I'm typing right now. A song changed and I just saw the same thing appear. I switch between insane ambition, wanting to run and hide, or taking up my time with someone else. Anytime I get there, to the part where the feelings should come. Where I should want to reach out, I can't. I don't want it. I want you and it hurts. Deeply. I feel you when I'm vulnerable. I get reminded of you when I'm busy with ambition. I close my eyes and drift to another place. One where it makes sense to never be apart. I blink and let you figure it out. I can't keep chasing you forever, but I will. I think about you and I pull the Fool. I find it frustratingly fitting.