(march 14th)

i got you to sign a copy of your book for me. you were too close to my mouth for me to breathe. you asked me my name and i didn’t give you the one on my birth certificate but you still spelled it right. you seemed to be pleasantly surprised at my writing efforts and we clicked really well and there wasn’t any stuttering on any of our parts and i wanted you to write that you found me beautiful in my book. (you didn’t.) instead, you told me there was a lot of exclamation points to look forward to in your note. i told you that interjections were a good sign. we smiled. i lingered for a while longer, glimpsing at you in front of the library window, even when a woman appeared and you touched along her collarbone instead of mines. there wasn’t much left to do, so my friend and i turned to leave, she in front, me in the back. as i reached the first step, i heard you call me from your place in the back of the room, wishing me goodbye by name--you didn’t do this to anyone else, not even to any of the graduate students or any of your past professors. we met eyes, you waved, we smiled--

i fell..

but i never looked back