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she goes by cece now (but she was cheryl when i knew her)

i hadn’t thought about cece in years, until today when raspberry beret came on the hardware store speakers and kicked something in my memory. and it stings to think there’s no one i know now who wouldn’t say “who?” if i brought her up. she loved me, and i suppose i loved her, though not in any way that meant anything. and yes, we found each other once, and she looked good in my clothes when i left. i like to imagine she still has them, wears them out when she gets groceries, or some stranger is pulling my underwear off her and it’s only for a second that she remembers they were mine.

and i think her hair’s gone brown since i saw her last, and i think she dropped out of college, and if i went to look her up, i don’t think i’d find her. and she goes by cece now, but she was cheryl when i knew her. 

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