I am scared that you know how to leave,
how to get up and slam the front door behind you,
leaving me with all the dishes left over from the meal I made in my tiny apartment on West Main Street.

I am hopeful that you will forget what it means to say goodbye,
and that the door will look less appealing over time

I am embarrassed each time I make a joke that isn’t quite funny,
or send one too many messages in the middle of the night,
because then I think you might know how much I really clutch onto you and stand in between
you and the doorknob.

I am excited each time I see your name,
and it makes me want to jump out my window onto the pavement because I don’t like this sense that this is meant to be and I really have something worth losing.

I am unsure of where you stand;
I see you in the kitchen and want to pull you over,
make you come closer to me,
so I can hold your hand and ask you how you’ve been.

I am helpless to you as I watch you fix all the clocks for me,
because I have never been on time for anything,
and now all of a sudden I am exactly where I am supposed to be.

I am overwhelmed and can’t fall asleep because of the fear I feel about the door being unlocked,
and me, unhinged;
you could wake up and realize that I am a nightmare that you dare not stick around for.

I wish I could erase the door.

I wish I could fall asleep knowing that the door is there,
and you are here and neither is going anywhere.

– Rachel Spear