Again.

I saw you last night again and you wore that rosy cheeked smile like a butler wears a tuxedo. And you and I walked under a starlit marina and pretended that we could be lovers, and you gave me hope that love exists and it was like you were presenting me with a locket with your photo inside before heading off to war. You head off to war every day. You carry guns over your shoulder and you march off and I never know if you’re going to succumb to trench warfare or emerge victorious. Sometimes I don’t know which I hope for either. Sometimes I wonder if there is any point in worrying about you in the big wide world, where you are in No-Man’s Land with nothing but the shirt on your back and your concealed weapons. Sometimes love is like a concealed weapon.

I saw you again last night and I couldn’t stop smiling. I was grinning like a fucking idiot. I was grinning like someone who is in a room of people more beautiful and intelligent than her she doesn’t know, and smiling is the only way to keep from crying.

I’m wearing my glasses again today. I haven’t worn them in ages and I look like a librarian and a nerd and like I’m wearing a mask with bulging scary eyes designed to frighten you and all the other little children away. Last time I wore glasses I was meeting up with someone else. And I frightened them away too.  

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