it's been a bit -- i miss you

i played guitar for the first time in three months today.

i had forgotten why--i remembered when i tuned her up and my fingers formed the chord shape that starts the song you taught me. nothing has ever felt so natural.

it took me a moment to shake off that feeling, and then i tuned her down and realized the only other song i had any desire to play was the one i learned in order to sing to you. the reason you don't remember this is that i chickened out; it's not like i could ever get the timing right, anyway. 

it's been... almost six months, since we last talked. you were two weeks off crutches, then. said you almost punched someone in the lobby. hah... fuck. i thought i was over this. i'm facing away from my guitar, writing this. i can feel it behind me. i itch to pick it up again

you know i bought it for you, right? the amp, the guitar, the capo, the tuner, the cables. i didn't know it at the time, but i fell in love with you the first time we met and have never fell out. 

it is what it is. i've fucked up my life beyond repair. well, maybe that's not true. you'd be happy to know that i'm rather successful--i'm transferring. i'm a published author, now, kind of. i'm acing my classes. my professors love me. but i think the moment i left you i ruined everything. it's not like i can come crawling back, can i?

maybe i'll pick up lessons again. is that too much? would that be weird? could i come back, would you curse with me still, would you teach me the songs you write? will you make me another playlist? can i say what i felt in so many more words? shit. shit, shit. shit. this fucking sucks.