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Writer's pictureRocío Romero Otero

I Sit Here

I sit here

with myself,

thinking

watching

writing.

Time has passed

and come

and gone,

and crawled

and run

and flown.


I sit here.

Stop and think.

And there might have been days

when I haven’t though about you.

I'm not really sure...

Wow,

I'll take that as a win.

For me,

for you

For We.


I sit here.

There might have been days

when you havent crossed my mind.

Liberating

me

Freeing

me

But also

Guilt - y


Why are you here?

guilt.

Go away, guilt,

you are not welcome here,

guilt.

I've given enough to you already;

you are welcome

but now

Go

Away

Guilt.

Please.

Ease.


I sit here,

“doing me”.

Not thinking about you,

not doing you.

Not thinking,

you.

Not feeling,

you.


I sit here,

with myself

by myself

for myself,

for once.


I sit here.

I look around...

and I see this guy at the bar.

Young guy

Skinny guy

Tall guy

Here.

He orders a beer.

He looks my way,

not at me,

my self,

just my way.

And he is smiling,

and his eyes get really really tiny.

He looks happy.


I sit here,

and for a thousandth of a second

he is you.

I see you,

here.

My young you

My skinny you

My tall you

My beautiful you

(my self)

ordering a beer

looking my way

(not at me)

and smiling

with your really really tiny eyes

when you smile.

And you look happy.


My self.

And I’m not by myself anymore.

And you are there,

and I’m here,

and I sit here,

and I drop a tear...


And I keep writing,

for you, now.


I sit here.

But only until the tear is gone.

I’ll give my self,

and your self,

That.

Before I take a deep breath,

close my notebook,

and walk away.


I walk away,

step by step.

Back to me,

letting you,

go.

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