i wish i'd kissed more boys in college

the last week curls around me,
fragile as a pencil shaving,
a warping funhouse mirror of memories.

they cleaned the carpet in my apartment building,
and the soap smell grabbed me by the hand and twirled me around,
back to the pool and the wall of your room,
back to when i was too full of my own shame and fear to tolerate yours.

i used to pride myself on having no regrets,
because why waste time wishing the past wasn't what it was?
but now regret feels clean, like the relief of cool water over sunburn,
because every regret i let seep out of me frees some of my silt-buried heart.

everything is different now.
you can only remove your own mask,
and only you can remove your mask.

i survived being your child, and yours,
and then i survived a boss like you,
and then a supervisor like you,
and this time it only took me a few months to decide that i would leave the place i'd loved for ten long years because i finally know that i know what i know.

i sat on the patio,
a man half in my lap,
another smiling at me from across the table,
and another deciding that being utterly ridiculous was the best way to get my attention.
and beside me and across, friends whom i love.

i'm replaying,
the same steps i danced as a girl,
following along behind the mirror while i dance them as a man.
my toes and hers meet the ground,
knees bend,
arms stretch,
so much the same,
but the music she strained to hear is loud in my ears,
like the Sundance drums,
buoying up my heart long after my feet have gotten tired.

in the car,
driving home under the lamplit trees,
i think of Georgia, and grandma, and you.
the two men on the radio just get too real for a moment.
maybe i used to be like them too,
afraid of how deep into the dark i'd fall without a goal,
without a battle to distract me from myself.
and maybe i would have ended up like him,
inflicting my fear on everyone around me until i was alone.
is that who you want to be? asks the rear view mirror.
no.
i make bad art and good-enough data structures and have learned the hard way that i can never be smart or skilled or powerful enough to make my world safe.

everything is different now.

i'm going back to the bar tomorrow,
back to all the things i thought i was afraid of,
and where i instead found their hands and smiles and kisses,
each sweeter than the last.