Birthmarks, cheese fries, and other memories I looked back on in December- Julie Goldberg ’16

12/1/13 We were lying on your roof laughing at the oddly-shaped birthmarks etched into your skin in the creases of your left elbow and for a moment so infinitesimal it barely happened at all, I thought that it would be funny to toss you over the edge and watch you cascade to the ground, I mean just see your limbs swinging about and your face looking up as gravity pulled you down and later I could wipe off the blood and make you a chocolate milkshake and it seems like I thought about this a lot but I really didn’t, it came and went so fast and then I was laughing again and you never even noticed that I had stopped.

12/9/13 We shared a plate of cheese fries and you ate the last one and I stared at the paper that had been hiding the whole time, collecting grease until it was saturated, thinking that you should have offered me that last one even though I would have said no because it was soggy, limp and lonely and didn’t even have a coating of cheese to mask its ugliness but I think guys are supposed to offer things to girls and hope that they say no and you didn’t but I wasn’t angry or anything because that’s just you and at some point your selfishness started to disfigure your beauty.

12/16/13 I laughed at all your jokes, even when they were racist or obscene and you sounded like a moron and you used to laugh at mine even when you didn’t understand them because I’m not very good with simplicity but you don’t anymore so do you hate me or are you exhausted by my crossword puzzle humor or are you depressed because there’s medication for that but you don’t believe in non-recreational drugs, do you.

12/22/13 The sun was still wiping the sleep from it’s eyes and you whisked the batter like a maniac and I sprinkled the chocolate chips and you laughed because I arranged the morsels into frowny faces and you placed your hands over mine and we moved as one as we flipped over each misshapen pancake but we waited too long and ninety three million miles away, the sun was burning too.

12/27/13 We played tug-of-war everyday for eight months and I gave my muscles a good squeeze and they are no stronger than they were before and your company has become enervating and you say it’s a tie and I nod my head but the truth is you hauled me through the mud then complained about the rope-burn on your palms.

12/31/13 It’s almost a new year and I’m still trying to figure you out but not sure who there will be to tell or what trophy I will get to flourish when I finally crack the code and solve you like a Rubik’s cube.