I thought about getting one of those apps for people trying to get sober.
The ones where you put the date of the day you decided to try quitting, and then it starts counting how many hours, days, months and years you’ve been sober.
Before Sunday, it had been a good five months.
I last saw you on December 21st, but didn’t decide to quit you until February 19.
Since then I could breathe normal again. I was coming back to my body.
I could look at old pictures, the ones we took on the subway when we squeezed into that one tiny seat and I was practically on your lap. The ones you took of me in central park and in time square.
I could look at them and remember how fun it was when we were friends.
I saw them and didn’t think about your visits, the way you hugged me in the night when you got cold, our late night conversations that always ended in telling each other what we were gonna do to next time we were front of each other
You would text me and I wasn’t hung on your every word.
I think you started to notice too because I could sense you trying to call my attention a little harder.
All of a sudden I’m getting a “buenos dias” text followed by a snapchat of you in bed captioned “mi cama te extraña”
I, feeling like the bad bitch that I am, leave it as opened and reply with a side eye emoji.
For the first time in months I feel both wanted and in control
[But I’m still not yearning for him like in January.]
I could finally hang out with my friends and only bring you up as side note joke or not even at all
Then I see you Sunday.
And you look at me how you do.
I’m on the opposite end of the couch avoiding your eyes.
[Looked at the wall, for the first hour and 40 minutes]
We talk for a good 3 hours and I finally decide its time for me to leave.
You walk me out and I’m thinking I DID IT! WE DIDN’T FUCK, HES OUT OF MY SYSTEM!
But then we stop at my car
And you ask me if I really have to go
YUP [le digo super quick before theres any room for thought]
And I’m about to turn around when you finally give me the kiss I had expected all night.
The one I was sure I had ducked.
So, here I am kissing you back with one foot in my car and a hand in your pants.
I stop kissing you and tell you we wasted too much time talking.
You tell me you’re going to me next time, and it won’t be just a few hours.
You’re taking a whole weekend off for me so you tell me to think about where I want to go.
I text you Monday “lets go to Kino. Quiero ver el mar contigo”
You reply “i’ll keep you posted on my free time. I just got handed another project and i don’t know what my schedule will be like”
A reply that the Flor two years ago would’ve still considered a possibility -is being read by a Flor who knows better.
I’m probly gonna download that app and put you in as some kind of hallucinogen.
Floresota 