Pandalina's

i am going to write about how you smell like smoke and burnt coffee, how your face reminds me of faded photographs and vinyl records. i am going to write about your nose is crooked and your eyebrows too flat, how you talk too slow and think too fast. i am going to write about the nights i spent sitting in my room waiting for a call that never came, the nights staring at my ceiling waiting for an answer i’m not sure i’ll ever get.

i’m not going to write about falling in love.

no, i’m going to write about crashing into confusion. i’m going to write about frustration and anger and learning the art of impatience. i’m going to write about unraveling and colliding and going up in flames, about striking you across the face, about running barefoot in a hurricane, about cursing your name until i’m hoarse and breathless. i’m going to write about discomfort and annoyance and chaos, about disappointment and anxiety and nerves.

it’s not going to be pretty, darling.
but i’m going to write about us.