Remember how our pictures were gold? They only looked gold because I couldn’t see how the gold can fade and show rust underneath. The sparkle was gone, but I kept clawing at the gold plating anyway. I wondered if my fingertips could paint over rust so the gold could stay.

I imagine finding you on the train on the way to Berlin. We’re sipping our cups of coffee, careful not to burn our tongues so our mouths could speak.

The first time I found myself going along with whatever he said, I told myself it was because I wanted him to be happy.

I’m not okay, and that’s okay. I’m going to be true and finally say it.