Things I Wish I Wouldn't Write About

Things I Wish I Wouldn't Write About

Things I wish I wouldn't write about: Julia.

I wish I wouldn't write about how the sound of her laughter could end wars. I wish I wouldn't write about her adorably-tousled hair or her chipped nail polish or her eyes that told stories of adventure and mischief and never-ending summer nights. I wish my pen would stop piercing the page with words that could never compare to the way her hand feels in mine. I wish my brain would just pack its bags and move on and forget about her.

I wish my thoughts wouldn't find comfort in the blank pages of notebooks; I wish they would settle down into the ears of loved ones. I wish everyone would stop looking at me like that. I wish everyone would understand that I am incapable of seeing the black sky lit up by stars or the red blur of a car passing by or the dingy white of my pillowcase without thinking of her.

I wish the words wouldn't come of their own accord. I wish I could control the things I write. I wish I wasn't bound and gagged and useless while the words knocked me senseless and possessed me.

I wish I wouldn't think about her so much.

I wish I wasn't so helpless and weak and disappointing. I wish I could accomplish feats like those of the heroes she used to scoff at. I wish I could shift tectonic plates to rearrange the earth and make a better one.

I wish I could bring her back.

*****

This is a little free-write I did. A few months ago, I was given a prompt by a fellow writer. The prompt was to start with the line: "Things I wish I wouldn't write about: Julia."