My high school tennis coach always told me I was an emotional player. He also was my English teacher and suggested I try poetry.
I Never Got To Eat Dinner With Your Family
and make awkward conversation with your mom while she preps the lasagna.
Let her ask me what I'm doing after graduation, as she spreads the ricotta, and I bare enough courage to say I'm not sure.
"Oh, well what do you want to do?" I'm not sure
"Where do you want to live?" I'm not sure
"What did you study in school?" I'm not sure-but-I-really-like-your-son-is-that-okay?
And she'd look from me, to you, with those protective eyes, and ask you to stay back and help with the sauce.
So maybe instead, I'd hit it off with your older brother since we both played lacrosse
Pass a ball in your front lawn and he'd tell me
all your embarrassing stories and the best ways to make you mad but also that
you're his little brother and not once did you ever rat him out for coming home late or smoking weed on the roof and that you are "one loyal little brother, you can count on that."
Then we'd wash our hands for dinner, where maybe I'd sit down next to your sister
because after all, she's the most important person to impress. So, of course, I'd spill the green beans she asked me to pass, then try to cover it up by saying something clever like "cool necklace."
And she'd give me a half-smile but notice I'm just nervous so she might be understanding and tell me how she bought it on the boardwalk in Venice and I'd tell her "I was in California last week!" but she meant Italy, and wasn't really impressed.
I wish you could have taken me camping, early on a Tuesday
far away from here
That way, somewhere between hiding from rain showers in the tent and climbing rocks towards the sunset, I could tell you how I really feel.
I like to pretend we have more time, enough time
to stay up all night playing 20 questions and I tell you a secret and you tell me a secret and we no longer have to be so polite around each other.
It sounds kind of nice
to be angry with you
But I never got to yell, only once did I cry
I would have liked more tears, more promise
more to be scared of, more to lose
more "stop it" with a smirk
pursed lips when you don't want to talk about it
and late-night whispers, half-asleep, when we both tell the truth
More "I'm not sure but we'll figure it out"
and a better conversation with your dad, because he couldn't make it that night for dinner.
My Bouquet of Clumsy Words (courtesy of e.e. cummings)
You know that moment when a good idea hits and the world feels a little brighter and more full of potential? I often wish we could dwell there longer. I also wish loyalty was a given and laughter was as easy to come across as loose change. I wish you could save memories in your coat pocket or in-between the cushion of a worn-in couch. Because when all else is dull, and the world isn't so bright, I think it'd be nice to relive to good moments for just another moment.