I watched you from afar. I wasn’t the only one. Everyone looks forward to seeing you, dresses up for you, makes reservations for your arrival. I’m a pariah, always middle of the pack. People write songs about you—“when you’re here, I’m in love”. People thank God for you. When I’m at the party, everyone feels like they’re biking uphill.
I can’t help feeling that we’d work. If we could overcome time and space, if we could sit down for coffee, we’d never be apart.
We’ve never met. We never will, and it’s all his fault.
Fuck you, Thursday.
-W