so you can live happily
with her on your hand
as I cry myself awake
from any sort of sleep
so you can know peace
taking the easy route
as I cover myself
in a chaos of complications
so you can be loved
unconditionally by her
as I never could
offer you something
so simple
By: Kyle Freelander
Truth be told, I miss him. I had been trying to hide that fact from others and myself for a while now but there was no point anymore. I could no longer avoid the parties he went to, the games he was going to play in, and the halls where his classes were and claim we weren’t friends anymore because I didn’t care. No, that wasn’t the case at all. I didn’t even have to try and avoid him because I knew he would be trying just as hard as I was to never have our paths cross again. No matter where I went, he was nowhere to be found. That is, he was nowhere to be found until today.
I spotted him as soon as he walked into the coffee shop. I nearly spit my white mocha out all over my book but I captured my surprise in time to regain the appearance of composure in case he looked my way. From my seat near the door, I could only see the back of him as he found his place in line, one person away from the counter. He was at the cash register, probably ordering his usual: dark roast, two sugars. Some things about him would never change: the coffee he drank, the way his brown hair remained disheveled no matter how many times he claimed to have brushed it, and how he was never able to sense my presence in a crowded coffee shop the way I could sense his.
From behind my book I watched him as he handed the cashier his credit card. Part of me wanted to remain unnoticed by him because I knew it was best for both of us but the other part of me knew he was going to see me on the way out. It didn’t occur to me until the woman handed him his coffee that I could have left by now. I could have snuck out and he wouldn’t even have known that I was here, but it was too late. He took his coffee from her and turned to leave. I ducked further behind my book as he started walking in my direction. I knew now that I didn’t want him to see me because that meant I would be forced to look into those familiar brown eyes again and remember everything I tried so hard to forget: the time we walked hand in hand through the snow, the night he told me he loved me over Fritos and a movie, the meaningful glances and kisses up until he said goodbye. A few months weren’t enough to bury those memories forever and I knew one look from him would be enough to bring them all back to the surface.
The door chimed as he left the shop. I put my book down on the table, surprised that it actually doubled as a hiding spot. Sure, it was intended to be one but I pretty much knew he was going to see me anyway and, with flushed cheeks, I would put the book down with a laugh about how I was just so into the story. Then that crooked smile would come over his face like it always did when I was doing something I knew was probably stupid but he insisted was actually adorable. He would sit in the empty seat across from me and we would talk for hours about all the things that made us go wrong until we made all of them go away so that we could be right again. That’s what was supposed to happen. He wasn’t just supposed to leave without so much as a glance.
I looked out the window and, through the painted letters advertising the shop’s seasonal coffee, I watched him cross the parking lot. I guess today was not the day we were meant to talk again. He set his coffee on top of his car as he pulled his keys out but his attention was clearly elsewhere. I tried to follow his gaze, but I could only guess what he was looking at from the back of his head. I couldn’t figure out what he found so fascinating in a lot full of cars. He turned around and our eyes met through the glass. I leapt back a little in my seat bumping the table enough to cause my coffee to dance in the mug. He waved at me and I had no choice but to wave back as if I hadn’t been waiting for this moment ever since he walked in or, more accurately, ever since he had walked out. Behind him I could now make out my own car and I knew exactly what he had seen that made him turn around and search the coffee shop. Maybe he was just as surprised about our run in but, if he was, he didn’t stay long enough for me to find out. There was nothing more to be done after waves were exchanged and, as always, he was the one who got to go away.
By: Kyle Freelander
I fold the brown napkin in half two times
to make quarters out of paper,
eager for any sort of change
as you look at me
from across the table
that divides us,
far enough to stare
but close enough to have to fight
the urge to hold hands
by poking at the food on our plates
that we never intended to eat.
We pretend not to be uncomfortable
here, in the wooden booth
that pushes my bones and prods my back
while we bask in each other’s quiet company
of friendship gone awry
as we try to repair it and make things right,
but the silence tells us what we already knew:
there is no fixing this; there is no fixing us.
I unfold the napkin,
revealing stains and creases
in the fibers that make the napkin complete,
flaws in the foundation
that folding could only hide,
but never change.
Photo from here
I knew from the way her breathing was heavy and forceful that she wouldn’t make it if the ambulance didn’t get here soon. Every inhale was a loud wheeze and every exhale was a thud onto the cold dirt. “It’s going to be okay,” I said even though I knew she couldn’t hear me. I would have better luck talking to the horses across the field then I would communicating with her in this state. Then again, I didn’t want to talk to the horses. Or at least one of them. He had caused this. He had trampled her. He had tried to kill my best friend.
A tear made its way down my cheek and I could feel the winter air try and turn the trail it had made into ice. I wiped it away as quick as I could. I didn’t want her to see me cry, even if her eyes were closed. I wanted her to think it was all going to be okay. It all was going to be okay. It had to be. I couldn’t lose my best friend. The ambulance would get here any minute and everything would be better again. It was the waiting that was killing her, that was killing us both.
A scratchy moan came from her lips. It was like metal being scraped across the pavement, being dragged by a car the way her body had been dragged by a horse. It was the worst sound I had ever heard. “It’s going to be okay,” I repeated, trying to sound certain. She groaned again. I looked at the way her legs were turned the wrong way, how her chest appeared almost caved in, and listened to the way each breath sounded like it would be her last. She must be in so much pain. I just wanted to pull her into a hug and let her know we were going to get through this. We got through everything together, but I couldn’t do that. I wasn’t supposed to move her and I didn’t know that it was going to be okay. I didn’t know anything anymore, certainly not how to deal with death.
“Hey, remember that time we skipped class to see Twilight?” I asked in an attempt to distract her. Her body rose and fell in reply. “I was so afraid we would get caught and you told me to suck it up…that we only live once, that we had to make the best of these sorts of opportunities while we still could. Do you remember that?” I knew better than to expect a reply. Water formed in my eyes again and this time when the tears spilled down my cheeks, I just let them. She knew I wasn’t as strong as she was. She would understand that I was even more terrified than I had been when the school called my parents to tell them that I hadn’t been in class that day.
Her body rose and fell with such a thud that some dirt flew up around her. I stared at her through my tears, waiting to see some sign of life but she just lay there on the dirt. There was no more wheezing, no more rising and falling, no more anything. Now my tears were uncontrollable. I buried my face in the sleeve of her jacket and sobbed for what felt like hours but I knew must have only been a few moments. “Why did you have to leave me?” I asked, sitting up again. I shook her lifeless body, and demanded that she return at once –that she come back to life. I needed her but there was no way to bring her back. Her body fell to the ground one last time.
By: Kyle Freelander
I wake up in the morning
and you’re the first thing on my mind.
Your scent fills my nostrils,
my thoughts, and my dreams.
You, love, are my everything.
It was just yesterday
when I held you last
and let the world know
that you were mine;
that I wouldn’t give you up
without a fight.
I replay all the days
that brought us together
over the past several years,
moments blurring together
in my sleepy mind.
Hot days, cold days,
weather can’t keep us apart
no distance, no measure of time,
is an inconvenience
when it comes to you.
I crawl out of bed,
dutifully going to you
before my morning class
so we can spend an hour
or so together -our quality time.
You’re late again
and I’m, as always, on time,
waiting for your arrival
wishing you’d wait for me
sometimes.
You make your grand entrance,
looking better than I remember.
I lick my lips in anticipation
for the kiss I have been craving
since my alarm woke me.
I grab hold of you,
my love,
my waking thought,
my everything,
but I have to let go
‘cause you’re too hot
for coffee.
There were a lot of butterflies that day,
the one when you left,
pouring out from inside of me
where they had been cleverly hiding,
where no one could watch them grow
but I could feel their budding strength.
Our interactions their sustenance:
words for food,
kisses for cocoons,
as they morphed from caterpillars
into colorful butterflies
quivering inside of me.
But one day the clouds came
and never left us alone,
they knew better than we did
that it was time to fly
away. The necessities for life
I could no longer supply:
the shelter became too dark,
too cold and too jaded
for something so bright.
The butterflies flew away
that day, realizing the sun
wasn’t coming back.
Not for them and not for me.
