The Realm of Possibility

by David Levithan

  you kissed me at a party.

  we both wanted to.

  we hooked up—something that sounds like two metal pieces fastening together.

  one holding the other, although it's often hard to tell which is which.

  I liked your eyes and I could tell you liked my body.

  I was fine with that, because it was not supposed to lead to this.

  because I do care,

  enough that I should leave you.

  I am not capable of something you are capable of.

  that is, love.

  I have the capacity for attraction.

  even for admiration.

  you deserve someone who will turn her world for you,

  someone who will give you sweetness.

  I am unkind.

  I am that kind.

  you say you do not see it.

  you say I am too hard on myself.

  but I have lived with myself for too many years.

  I know exactly how hard I am.

  you will argue with me.

  (not now, you are asleep)

  you will rip yourself to shreds to prove that I am worth loving.

  you will not hear the chorus of everyone I've let down.

  they sing from inside me,

  sing from the darkness.

  you do not know them.

  they are from another town, another time.

  but from the same person who now lies here next to you,

  who can run her hand over your shoulder and make you shiver.

  pull up the sheet.

  inhale, exhale.

  you are so beautiful.

  this light.

  the night I gave up on myself was not long ago.

  right before I met you.

  I was the new girl, and wanted that.

  to make me a new person. redraw myself.

  I was pretty enough for Cara to take me into her group.

  I was phony enough to let her think I was grateful.

  we shopped, we gossiped, we made plans.

  I let her confide, and let her think I was confiding.

  her birthday.

  it was her birthday.

  she hadn't been going out with Roger for long.

  she loved loving him, and I knew that.

  I didn't really like him.

  let me say that outright—I didn't really like him.

  we were at her house, drinking her parents' liquor.

  I was bored; she kept asking how I was.

  we had spent an hour figuring out what she would wear.

  that is, what Roger would like.

  I knew Roger didn't care.

  he wasn't the kind to notice what his girlfriend was wearing.

  other girls, though.

  me, for instance.

  I was not drunk.

  Roger was.

  right in front of Cara.

  because it was simple.

  there is doing wrong without knowing you are doing it.

  that can be somehow excused, at least over time.

  but I knew it was wrong,

  and I did it anyway.

  because I liked the power it gave me.

  because I liked being able to do it.

  I could not be a new girl.

  I took him to the backyard.

  and the darkness there was not like this darkness.

  it was a pitch-black emptiness.

  there was no pleasure in it.

  just bored destruction.

  Cara never forgave me.

  I was glad for that.

  to have a reason to feel this way about myself.

  I gave myself the reason.

  you weren't there that night.

  I would have to wait another month to meet you.

  but you must have heard.

  you must have been warned.

  I am a damager.

  and yet, you hold me.

  I am so tired of the phoniness,

  especially my own.

  with you I feel real.

  but then I worry about the me that lies beneath.

  at the end of the book, Holden says don't tell anybody anything.

  I say all these things without ever saying them out loud.

  this is the voice I hear.

  I always hear.

  the inhale, the exhale.

  you are so soft like this, touchable.

  breath is not aware of its history; it is just breath.

  I wish I could be like that, or love could be like that.

  you give me hope.

  I debate whether I deserve it.

  the rise, the fall, the rise.

  if I hold you, you will know it in your dreams.

  I run to the cliff, and then see you sleeping.

  I stop.

  this darkness is so many things.

  it is my past in my present.

  forgive me for what I might do to you.

  the threat of my past in my future.

  the inhale, the exhale.

  the unsilent silence.

  the blue room.

  seeing in the dark.

  the unearned comfort of you.

  my regrets.

  I regret

  I will try.

  three

  Anne

  Jamie

  Pete

  Clara

  Fragments

  1. Reliquary

  The slide is offered to the darkness,

  gold and jewels in the shape of a child.

  “She was a young girl in the tenth century”—

  nothing else is known.

  How sad it must be for you

  to be nothing more than a hollow statue,

  to have your tomb preserved

  and your story forgotten.

  2. Hourglass

  I often want to pour more sand

  into the hourglass; you know the shape,

  how it is supposed to mean time.

  We are caught in the narrow middle.

  You and I play games with each other.

  I turn over the hourglass and you protest.

  You are not ready to move yet. So instead

  you knock it over, grab my hand.

  3. Anne Frank

  When I was twelve, I decided to be Anne Frank

  for Halloween. She was my favorite author,

  the person I wanted to be when I grew up.

  The neighbors didn't know what to do

  when I showed up in my schoolgirl outfit,

  the red plaid diary under my arm. Danny was with me,

  dressed as Charlie Chaplin. I guess that was my fantasy,

  to imagine them walking down our street together.

  4. Diary

  I catch you reading my diary; you argue

  if I hadn't wanted you to read it,

  I wouldn't have left it out.

  If only I'd left you out, too.

  You say you only read one page,

  the one where I rant against war.

  I take the diary back and write a new page,

  so you can read my disappointment in you.

  5. Quilt

  My great-grandmother made it for my grandmother

  and her marriage bed. From there, it ended up

  with me. It is a crazy quilt, colors crashing

  every which way. I've studied it for hours,

  trying to find a pattern beneath it all. I asked

  my mother about it, and she said that some things

  are just random. Then she cried for my grandmother,

  and I went back to find the beauty in the random.

  6. Present

  Just when I decide to leave you, you make me

  a card. There is no occasion attached,

  just a kaleidoscope collage of the world,

  green mountains, blue oceans, the sun.

  You've used tape, not glue, and the edges

  are already starting to split. Inside you've written

&n
bsp; This is all for you, and I'm amazed

  you've given me something I will always keep.

  7. Sappho

  She leaves me fragments and they are more real

  than a library of novels. Wisps of words

  from centuries ago, caught in the translation.

  I often feel I am living in fragments, skipping

  over words, leaving the rest of the sentence

  blank in order to move on to the next page.

  Maybe there is hope in fragments, that what is lost

  can always be filled in by someone who knows.

  8. This Moment

  You drive me down to the shore

  and I push you right into the waves.

  You laugh and pull me in with you.

  I feel the shells beneath my feet.

  We hold each other at the same time,

  the sun dancing in your hair.

  And I think, this is what's eternal.

  Not for us, but in itself.

  the day

  a banner of light breaks into the room, five minutes before

  the alarm awakes

  a cold when the blankets are removed

  a concern that passes

  a detail unnoticed by the next moment

  a look at the clock

  a memory of saying hello to an angel in a dream

  a squint when the lightbulb switches on

  a stop as the water turns warm, then hot

  afraid of the day in inarticulate ways

  after the shower, the half dream will wash away

  as incomplete as the ghost who still reaches for doorknobs

  as I choose which clothes to wear

  as I pack the bag for the day

  asking for nothing in return

  assignments, astrology, asymmetry

  at breakfast, zack eats pancakes three at a time

  attempting to be a good sibling, I ask about anne

  awestruck by love, or something like it, he answers with an unaccustomed sweetness

  back to the routine

  before the radio is turned off

  before the ride is over

  begin right here

  beginning to understand where hesitations come from

  betrayal is in the air, my thoughts

  better to not have to choose between safe and sorry

  biology is no way to start the day

  blackboards are never black anymore

  blameless, jakob slips me a note that says she's being

  ridiculous borderline between sides but we used to be friends

  can't be that simple

  capillaries are invisible to the eye

  catalog all the reasons a friendship ends

  caught between those reasons is the truth I'll never know

  certain there will never be certainties

  circle the following option

  circulation is what keeps us alive

  clamoring in the halls

  clutching to the hope of not seeing her, not being called out

  come here

  come over

  contradict me again and I will break your heart

  curvaceous ms. gunderson presides over history

  daniel asks me if I'm doing okay

  daring me to explode

  deceptively, I smile

  despite all the thoughts that run through your head, you're

  never really ready to let go, are you?

  distract me with the prussian war, ms. gunderson

  distract me with the way you brush back your bangs

  do whatever you have to do, I said to tegan

  drown in the word ANYTHING written on a desk

  duration is a relative thing

  early warnings are never heeded

  easy to say now that I should've known

  end that line of speculation; go to gym

  even though we never made this walk together

  even though we weren't that kind of pair

  even when I promised not to do this

  everything is missing right now

  fashion your composure

  feel normal in your gym clothes

  field that birdie like such things matter

  for another lover—no

  for freedom—not really

  for hundreds of minor infractions—perhaps

  for seven months, we were together

  for the time being, there's no way to know the reasons

  forget, forgone, forgotten

  fourteen things of hers are still in my locker

  gail is humming a hymn as she walks with her trinity into math class

  gentleness is a statement

  gestures are everything we need

  give it time, tegan said to me last night, as if a breakup was something you could leave out to dry

  go, I shouted, but what I meant was the opposite

  graph the coordinates, find the parabola

  group it all onto the page, even though it goes on forever

  growing up is hard to do

  had I seen the distance?

  had I seen the distance, could I have crossed it?

  halved, harmed, hard to say

  having enough had been enough

  her

  here is the place we'd meet for two minutes before the next bell

  here is the time we were the only ones left in the school and kissed by the light of the exit sign

  here is where we

  here is where we're not

  hidden in the library for study hall, I try to think compositionally for my english homework

  hip to my distress, jed comes over to listen to whatever I have to say

  his concern is as clear as my confusion

  his pen doodles in my margin as I tell him

  history often comes sooner than you think

  honestly, she said before saying it was over

  honing in on my every vulnerability, my every fear

  hopefully, I tried to persuade her

  hopelessly, I tried to persuade her

  hours cannot measure what I feel

  housed inside me like a caged tiger

  how strange it feels to talk about it

  how was I planning to get through this alone?

  I do not cry

  I have had enough of that

  I speak these words as a way of controlling them

  instead of telling me everything is okay

  instead of wallowing and saying life sucks

  instinctively jed lets me release my story

  it is a way of releasing myself

  it's nearly time to go to lunch

  it's tempting to skip it

  jed asks me if I'm coming, ready to be the company I keep

  jitters crescendo, but I close my blank homework and try to prepare for the worst

  jocks crowd the lunch line

  joking loudly

  jostling my tray

  jungle laws apply here

  just as I think I can do it, I see her at a new table

  jutting her attention into a fake conversation

  juvenile in her avoidance

  karen and daniel and sam are sitting at our usual table, and I know the choice couldn't have been an easy one

  keeping my eye on her, I try to restore some faith

  kidding myself that this victory wins the war

  kindness is clearly not the point

  kiss me one last time is the sentence I will remember

  label me any way you want

  lace your disdain through every thought in this room