he sat quietly in my car with one hand drumming on his thigh rapidly,
the other held over his face, breathing through his fingers deeply.
when i asked him what was wrong,
he said “i feel awful.”
so i reached over and placed a hand in his lap, rubbing to soothe him.
i said “do you feel sick?”
he shrugged and murmured a “no.”
i leaned across at the next red light and kissed his cheek
and i whispered “it’ll be okay.”
twenty eight minutes and 2 highway exits later,
i was the one vomiting in his front yard because his words tasted so bitter,
and nothing felt okay at all.
“i just don’t feel what i did anymore.” he said.
his lips were moving, the song on the radio was still playing,
but all i could hear was the sound of my own voice twenty eight minutes ago,
naive and so damn foolish,
comforting someone who was working up the courage to break my heart.
that was the night i learned that;
even when i am someone’s glue,
i am ready to break.