Categories
Life and Love Poetry

Hey, look at us.

For Tina.

I think I was wrapped in a blanket
the day I wrote you that note.
In early August, the office sits
a crisp sixty degrees, so I have to believe
I untangled myself from my cocoon
to place it on your desk.

I didn’t know you yet,
but I wanted you to know the girl
you were about to share an office with
was excited you were joining.

Maybe I had an inkling then,
a little wink from above
that you and me were supposed to be there.
Me and you, together in that office
made warm by soft lights
and a radiator
and your stories.

And your stories.
They have lit up my life
and comforted my soul
and made me believe
that all along,
we were supposed to be there.

Me and you,
together in that office
laughing about belly jeans
and jelly beans,
taping photos to the walls,
ordering grilled cheese sandwiches,
planning our bridesmaid lineups.

Me and you,
together in parking garage conversations
and TJ Maxx and the ballet barre.
Together at the tall table at Brew Co.
and on the deck at my parents’ house.

Me and you,
never afraid to ask the hard questions,
never afraid to give the real answers.

Me and you,
a friendship built on a year
of hardship and heartbreak,
laughing as we go, trying
somehow
to make sense of it all.

Me and you,
friends because of a frigid office
and a shared sense of humor
and a love of writing
and the chances to be vulnerable
we take every time.

I am grateful for those chances
that started with a note on your desk.
Look where they landed us.

Who would’ve thought?

By laurenstockam

Lauren is graduate student at Missouri State University in Springfield, MO.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s