i make no apologies

‎”Thus wrote
a woman, partly brave and partly good,
who fought with what she partly understood.
Few men about her would or could do more,
hence she was labeled harpy, shrew, and whore.”

-Adrienne Rich

We’ve lost a good one, America. Rest well, Adrienne.

The first time I met you I didn’t know you’d forever change my life.  I didn’t know I’d remember your name 9 years later, or still transfer your phone number from upgraded phone to upgraded phone just in case.  My iPhone 4s (I’ve had it less than 3 months) is the first phone you haven’t graced, and I don’t know if I should consider it a sign of achievement that , or laziness, since my previous BlackBerry was too dead to retrieve numbers from.  I don’t know if you still have the same Oklahoma number, or if your voicemail is still hauntingly the same.  I don’t know what I would say if I was to call, or if you’d even remember me without having to prompt your memory.   The first time I met you, I didn’t realize you would be my first love, my first time, my first heartbreak, and the stereotypical clichés we attach to love.  Rather, the first time I met you, we hung out after curfew at camp and dangled our feet in the pool and talked about nothing until 1 am.  I didn’t realize then we were casting invisible lines that would forever connect us.  I thought we were talking about the campus laundry facilities and the lectures we had to attend in the morning.   I thought you were some random guy from Oklahoma.  In 1 weeks time, we’d be writing each other notes about “What are we doing?” and “I don’t know, but I like where we’re headed”.  In 2 weeks, I was sneaking into your bed so I could sleep next to you (sex wasn’t even on the table, much less an option on the menu).  In 3 weeks time, you were brushing away my tears and telling me it would be ok when we had to leave. 

                The first time I met you, I didn’t realize we’d both travel to Kansas to my roommate’s house to meet.  I didn’t realize the lengths we’d go to keep something together that was so obviously meant to unravel.  The first time I met you, I was a 17 year old with no knowledge of the strain that distance, youth and uncertainty can have on a relationship.   I just knew that I will always remember your yellow and blue plaid shirt, the way you looked at me, and that a breeze through an open door ruffling a white sheer curtain will forever belong to you.

-E