Blog

The map of twilight (Rocco)

I should have built more bridges to you.
I should have forded more streams.
Crossed the street to get to the other side, to get where you were.
I should have watched Lost and Scandal and The Americans.
And stayed awake during Django Unchained.
I should have gone to that concert and bought you a beer or two.
I should have sung along louder to our songs and your songs, too.
I should have been gentler and kinder.
Back from work, I should have met you at the door and looked you in the eye and welcomed you home.
I should have been more patient, led you up the stairs by the hand when you fell asleep on the couch instead of glowering at you from the balcony.
I should have baked you more cookies, the oatmeal ones.
I should have burned you all those CD’s, made you a mixed tape, with love songs.
I should have snuggled up to your broad back and kissed your neck in the early morning.
I should have complained less and praised more.
I should have woken you with a kiss when you were napping on the couch.
I should have let you nap.
I should have relaxed with you, put my head on your chest, give in, let go.
I should have taken a nap with you.
I should have been softer, less bristly, less bossy, less annoyed, less worried.
I should have said thank you.
I made mountains out of molehills.
Why didn’t I laugh? I should have made you laugh more and laughed with you.
I should have taken more dog walks with you, and held your hand, gone on a bike ride by the river.
I should have lingered.
I should have poured you another cup of coffee.
Another beer.
I should have grabbed your hand and held it to my chest, all those times when my heart was pounding for you.
I should have said I love you first.
I should have said yes more, and no, less.
When you said move in, I should have planted my flag and folded your laundry and cooked you dinner and packed your lunch.
When you said, I will take care of you, I should have told you I wanted nothing more than you and me, forever, and that I would take care of you, too.
I should have gone anywhere you were going, whenever you were going there.
I should have held tighter to your love.
And, all those times you told me I was glowing, I should have said, yes, I’m glowing because my heart is full up, like it’s never been.
I should never have lost you.
I shouldn’t have pushed you away, I should have swept you up, up, out of the slog and held you there so that your face touched the sun and warmed your eyeballs and your nose and your beautiful, beautiful lips.
Instead, I walked away. And I didn't even give you a hug.