Sincerely, Jennifer x

You asked me where I saw myself in five years,
blue eyes breaking through the bricks I had built around my earthy gaze.
I drew a blank,
staring back and simply shrugging,
because I wasn’t even supposed to make it this far,
so I had no plan for thirty six.

We talked about kids.
I’d always made excuses,
but I had been born as a Mother.
Everybody tells me so,
and so, that should have been part of my plan,
but I ignored the warring wail of my womb,
deciding that I did not deserve to live on in the light of another,
and put the idea to bed.

My life has awoken, though.
Everything has changed,
and while I have no plan for these extra days,
they are destined to meet me,
so,
perhaps I will see you in five years with a five year old who won’t stop asking for sweets and screen time.

Perhaps,
I will be pregnant on our wedding day.
Bursting from a black dress with insecurity and eyeshadow all over my face,
and you will grip my shaking hand tightly in your own and lie that I have never been more beautiful.

Perhaps,
the children will come later.
In between, we will fight, fuck, make up, picnic in the park, kiss in the small apartment we share,
because I am still too ashamed to let my lips have you in front of the eyes of others.

Perhaps,
the day will come when my hand will not shake in yours,
when I will hold you close,
letting go of everything else.
People will see, but I will shrug it off,
kissing you as if there are orchestras in the orange sky.

Perhaps,
I will never see you again.
Perhaps,
this conversation is all that will remain of this romance,
long after you have gone,
and I will wish I had been able to give you each of these answers out loud.