A Poem by Salem Fitzgerald

I miss you so much. I miss hugging you and laying on your chest. I miss your laugh and the way your nose scrunched. I miss hearing love songs and smiling, instead of turning the station. I miss playing Zelda with you. I miss playing with Artie and Eros and Maddie.

I wonder if I will ever stop missing you. I wonder if I will ever stop beating myself up. I wonder if I will ever stop feeling guilt, sadness, anger and jealousy.

I dreamt about you and your new girlfriend last night, a powerfully detailed dream that will forever be burned in my mind. In reality, I know nothing about her, but my mind was able to piece together a girl built from my insecurities: dainty hands, petite and thin, natural long blonde hair, and always smiling. She jumps into your arms and wraps her legs around you, hugs everyone genuinely when she sees them, is low-maintenance and never fusses about her hair or makeup (simply because she doesn’t have to).

Your mom loves her, she always has fresh flowers around and never lets plants die. She paints beautiful pictures that cover your home, and is always waiting with a delicious, healthy dinner for you. She’s kind, even to me, and the only thing that fires her up is seeing the injustices in the world; her positivity knows no bounds.

When you’re sad, she touches your hand with her skinny fingers and all your sadness fades away. She smells impossibly good all the time. She shares your love of coffee, her favorite ice cream is mint chocolate chip, and she takes you hiking to her favorite spot�"the one her and her dad went to as a kid. Her brother is her best friend; her mom is a close second.

She loves disc golf on the weekends, and when she throws it out of range, a mousey “I’m sorry” makes your heart swell.

She didn’t go to college at 18, because she wanted to be sure she knew her path first. She works with children and though it’s hard, she will tell you how rewarding it is to help a child grow into their best selves.

She might be none of the things my insecurities concocted, and it doesn’t even matter, because the one real thing that I know is true, is she gets to be loved by you. You; the moon and the shooting star in my sky. The rare, impossible, and beautiful sight that you are. The thing that my wildest dreams made into life.

She is the sun, and I’m a devastating black hole.

© 2019 Salem Fitzgerald

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This is very well written! Nice. A few tines it seemed I was reading lyrics to a song.

Posted 1 Year Ago

It felt to me you defined all the qualities you value into your "ghostlet" and the melding filled in your dream of what "good" and hope-full would mean. You "dream" well.

Posted 3 Years Ago

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2 Reviews
Added on December 8, 2019
Last Updated on December 8, 2019


Salem Fitzgerald
Salem Fitzgerald

Small Town, WI

I walk through life imagining events that have yet to happen. I yearn for adventure and passion. I'm let down so often by everyone I meet so I spend a lot of time alone. I'm a writer, a philosopher, a.. more..