I Love You, Whore

Freaking Love

The pregnancy scare brought us there
To that coffee shop table
To talk.

You told me you would have the kid
And asked me for support
And I balked.

But I had no choice on the matter—
It wasn't my body or my philosophy—
So I agreed to be there
Both in the child's life
And financially.

And so we agreed to get to know each other
Because three weeks does not a friendship make
And we had a crash course on who we were
And discovered that "Us" might not be a mistake.

The days that followed formed our instant relationship.
We weren't perfect for each other
But then who is?

I came to love the way you smile
And laugh
And kiss.

I came to believe
Wholeheartedly
That you were someone I would miss.

We made a few deals that you were cool about:
For every time I came on your face,
Or in your hair
Or on your breasts,
I agreed to come inside of you.

And no matter how many women I coveted
I promised to be true.

We agreed not to talk about politics
Or finance
Or religion.

Which is what it's like in pubs
So I was smitten.

It was all superficial,
This instant romance
But sometimes people are brought together
By random happenstance.

*   *   *

Yesterday, up at the little league park
I saw a little boy crying alone.
I asked him what was wrong
And in his watery brown eyes I saw home.

He had lost his mom.
I helped him find her and man
Was she hot
And divorced
And grateful—man, was she grateful...

And today when I awoke
The phone rang and it was you
Telling me the pregnancy was ectopic
(and then defining that term)
Basically meaning that we were over
Unless I "really wanted to."

I told you we could try from the beginning
Like couples often do
And then you heard the female voice in the background
Asking whom I was talking to.

The lie was "my sister"
Who you recently learned lives a thousand miles away
I told you that I missed her
And was worried about my future with you
So I asked her to come to Florida
To help me learn to be true.

"Put her on the phone"
You said with most unnerving tone.
"Oops, I think my phone's about to die"
—the weakest of all bullshit lies.

And so the evil text messages arrived
(Wow, you have a dirty mouth.
If I had known you were such a freaky bitch
I might not have wanted out.)

And as my day unwound
My thoughts drifted to you
And everything we could have been
If I could have been true.

And so I ask you for one more chance
To show my love for you.
I promise I will come where you want
And pick my clothes up off the floor
I promise to give you everything I got
Because I think I love you,
You freaky whore.