I suppose heartbreak came to me. But it didn't look like that.

No, not at all.

It looked like the promise of sandy blonde hair and smiling eyes. Late nights in parks and all the small things you can't describe how precious they are. Holding someone's hand, making them laugh until there are tears in their eyes. Running late to an appointment because you didn't want to leave them just yet. Hour long calls and inside jokes you never quite forget.

Heartbreak came to me like that. Wrapped up with a ribbon and a card, yet I didn't read the small print.

If I looked closer, it would probably have said something about keeping it away from irresponsible people or else it will be a hazard, maybe that it will break upon falling.

But I fell. And I broke.

Heartbreak doesn't come up to you holding a sign saying heartbreak. Heartbreak comes to you under the pretence of love.

It was my birthday. Which meant it had been a year since my beloved died. He died during a car crash; this information is relevant later.

Anyway, my family resented Michael. They were almost enthusiastic when the news came back to us of his disappearance; and, to please them, I pretended I was too.

But I was anything but contented.

I still love him now. Utterly. He is the sun in which I orbit, and is the beauty of my light. This may sound weird, but I talk to him every morning, and I told myself this after he died — every year, on my birthday, I would visit his grave.

I kept it.

Before my parents found out, I was already out of the house. I felt the tingle of the morning shower, yet it wasn't cold. In fact, I almost welcomed it.

When I arrived at the graveyard, sweaty and tired, I kneeled in front of his grave and dipped my head. "Michael," I murmur, "my precious Michael. Wherever you are, I hope you are happy."

I will not mention my mourning that dawn. Instead, I will talk about what happens when I get home.

My parents were awake, but didn't question me when I walked into the house; it wasn't uncommon for me to take strolls in the morning sometimes. Though, I thought they'd be a little concerned since it was, kind of, like, my birthday and all.

Whatever.

"I have a surprise for you!" Mom exclaims, a large smirk plastered on her face. Um… Okay then.

"What is it?"

"Come to the garage and find out!"

So I do. I follow behind my mother with ease, playing with my phone as we walked. I didn't even look up when we entered the garage, fearful of what I'd see.

"Here it is!"

I looked up — and froze. I stared, confused at what I was seeing. Then surprised. Then angry. Then heartbroken.

It was the same car Michael had crashed.

A hopeful bumble bee's betrayed

by summer heat in fall-

the next day's cold front brings some rain;

he cannot move at all.

No surplus pollen will be brought

back to his cozy hive-

his flight is lazy and distraught;

he won't get back alive.

***Inspired by a wet, cold bee I found the day after a lovely warm spell broke and temperatures became seasonal again.

It was a warm sunny day when he entered my life.

My heart beats faster for the love of my life.

As for how we met, I don't want to share.

But he stands by my side, we make a happy pair.

We both have our struggles, but carry eachother.

Reaching out our hands as we both suffer.

Him with his work, me with my head.

He keeps climbing up, while I am stuck in a rut.

I try to support him, as he has my heart.

But internally my head keeps me from lining up at the start.

I have done some amazing things,

but he is by far the best note that rings.

#poetry #challenge #depression #love #gay #gaycouple #non-fiction #struggle #share

The ribbons were already loose when he presented himself, so I helped to finish untying them.

He was sure he would be my most memorable gift in years. In some sense, arrogant as it was, he was right.

There was nothing boxed or tightly taped. I was able to quickly flip the lid and peer inside to see all the joy and excitement there for the taking.

I loved the look of that package. All its bells and whistles made it quite enticing. The more alluring the specialties, the less likely I was to say goodnight and walk away. I stayed to partake.

Therein lay the problem. The gift, the utterly delicious delicacy, wanted to be tasted.

He knew I’d be hooked on his addictive words and distractions.

Touching me this way and that, he, in turn, made me his most prized package ever. He was sure to tell me that over and over.

However, some parcels spoil when left out in the rain. The carelessness of neglect caused ruin, and he ruined me. He ruined me for all the other men. He ruined me by taking out the essential contents of the gift I presented and leaving it used and broken. He destroyed my self-worth and watered and fed my self-doubt.

Buried beneath all the tissue paper were heartbreak and devastation. With the swift kick of those cowboy boots, I was under his foot. After smiling sweetly and calling me “baby girl,” he felt free to wipe his feet on me. I tried to gather myself from the filth of the street. I sat on the curb. I worked to piece myself back together again, but it proved too much. It confirmed I had contents missing.

He strode away from me with his head back, laughing at his triumph. He had a new gift under his arm now.

She didn’t have a clue what might happen to her beautiful package as he wound his way through what she willingly gave to him, but I did.

The mind just reels the best case scenario.

Crafting a scenario that would lead to a chance

Of that number one thing we wanted

Even if the number one thing we wanted

Is no longer even that great

Our mind can’t help but write up a plan

just to keep it around

Keep it as a possibility

The stability

Of knowing all the possibilities

Still want me

May we never need to say still

Of course all the possibilities want me

breathing their life through me

We’re giggly and flirtatious with all possibilities

No one is committed to anything

We’re not scary and attacking one sole possibility

We cool

We’ve got a million other things going on

A million other possibilities floating around

The stupid

Implausible

Possibility

With the smallest ROI

Smallest chance of a good life

That one

We pump so much fucking energy into

Giving it breath

Keep alive a whole world for it

Just because it was that top dog favorite

A high priority deal

A favorite

An everything

What made it so important?

just the fact that it was the top dog contendor

the best possibility

and now it's slipping

floods of energy

We live life according to the barren small fact

Purposely living in alignment to the possibility

Living on a possibility

That the high priority possibility could still be afloat

We stop all sorts of actions

To keep the possibility breathing

We dance around for the possiblity

I set it all up

Purposely leaving so much blank

So that it’ll have to go

in the direction I want it to go

Comfort is only found

in a possibilities who aren't top dogs

The throwaway possibility

The only place we feel comfortable

But there’s no long term comfort in the throwaway

Because it isn’t your favorite place

It isn’t your home

I had my godmother write those words on a tie of a little bear that my roomate had been trying to get rid of. I gave it to him on the last friday of the school year. He was leaving with his older sister and brother. I said that since it was the last day of after school I wanted to give him this because working with him had been a gift and a joy. He hugged me. His sister asked why she didn't get one. I told her it was because I only had one and that I was a terrible person, one lie and one truth. They left and I headed back into the school, my day was far from done. I didn't see him much during the last four days. I went to his graduation. Smiled too much. He had made it through his first year at a school that would continue to beat the shit out of him.

A school that had an afterschool program that wasn't enough fun and had too many rules. Rules that I enforced too much.

A school that would throw his poverty in his face with their spirit shop. Because something was needed to touch the gap between the funding they were given and the funding that they and their community needed. I counted the coins he brought one week with him. I was surprised by how well he could count by 5's and 10's. I followed him when he took one of the branded water bottles we were selling for 3 dollars each. I stood at the entrance to his classroom and waited. I lied to the teacher when she asked why I was there. He brought the water bottle back after a bit. I smiled and said that he wasn't in trouble and that I hoped he had a good day. Hoping against hope that I wasn't building up shame in him about what happened.

A school whose principal yelled at him when he took extra cereal for breakfast.

He's back there for another year now I think. I can't be there for him this year not that me being there last year meant anything. But he has the bear, or had it. No doubt he's pulled off the tie, discarded it, or chewed on it. Dropped the bear in a puddle or forgotten it somewhere.

Maybe though, he's held it close in a dificult moment and its brought some manner of comfort that I might have provided last year. Maybe he read those words and remembered that he is loved even though he lives in a world that treats him as a burden and a pain.

Heartbreak in a Gift Box, - you've been goosed! And it doesn't stop there. We also have new items in the store including:

The Naughty Bits - Replacing the old Naughty Kilobits model this first-ever in-game plushie with the very erotic and daring new design comes ready please! This naughty piece is sure to seduce you!

The Perfect Box – This cardboard box has been redesigned for a tighter fit and better protection. A brand new interior and a brand new exterior for your precious cargo!

The Little Missy – A beautiful red velvet pouch to, - well, you know...

The Dark Side - This family-friendly product is a sexy design that has been carefully crafted to let you show your most intimate side to your lover. Good for dramatic reveals!

*All sizes will be a size smaller than they are pictured in the pictures.

**Please note that if your measurements are too big or your garment is not what you expected, we can do absolutely nothing about it. (We’ll charge you for it, though.)

***Please note, after you receive your email, you will not see a confirmation email and you have 24 hours to contact us, or else. We can procure for you a custom item as long as the size is still within the size limit. This process is non-refundable, but I will let you know how to request a refund once it has been sent through to me.

***Custom orders will be shipped out in two to four weeks based on USPS estimates of the correct shipping method. We have literally no idea of how it works. We have no control over the shipping rates and I'm unsure if it is a feasible business model at all. Please send help.