"Dear Rosie"

Sometime past 8 PM,

My heart began to feel cold,

I pulled out my pen and paper

And began to write again.

“Dear Rosie,

Do you still listen to

That same vinyl record

Of Dr. Dog, or

Are you more into The Beatles

Now? Ah, well,

Either way, you always had

The best taste in music.

Do you still drive the Chevy

Too fast on windy roads?

Do you still scream the lyrics

When The Lumineers come on?

Do you still go to church on Tuesdays,

Do you still drop the boy

With the sad eyes and blue smile

Off first?

Do you still do your homework at

The coffee shop in Jacksonville,

And does your dad still watch

Fox News all day in the living room?

Do you still wear big fuzzy sweaters

And your hair in a messy bun,

And high top Vans,

And baggy Levi Jeans,

And,

Do you ever miss my writing?

Do you still think it’d look

Good in a book?

Do you still think I’d make

A damn good John Green

Or a damn good Rupi Kaur,

And do you still think

I do winter better than anyone else?

Because,

I’m more into The Beatles nowadays,

And I tend to always speed in the Mazda,

Especially on windy roads,

And when I hear The Lumineers I tense up,

Because nobody is hitting the high notes,

And a different girl took me to church

But her eyes weren’t as blue

And her smile was made of cellophane,

But she didn’t drop me off in any order,

But rather all at once,

And I can’t go back to that coffee shop

Because I’m afraid if I do

I’ll see you wearing a loose t-shirt,

With your hair straight,

In low-cut Converse

And a fitting pair of jeans,

And,

I miss showing you my writing,

And I stopped putting it into books,

And I still think you’d make a

Damn good friend

Or even a damn good acquaintance,

And I still think you do spring

Better than anyone else.

Because you’re the closest

Thing to happy

I’d ever laid eyes on,

But it never mattered to me

That we never got to be one,

I just hated the fact that

I’d never again get to be

Friends with the one person

Who inspired me most.

For some reason,

I can’t get you off of my paper,

It’s like you spilt a cup of

Sunshine and sweet memories

All over my notebook

Just far enough for me to watch

And not touch,

And all I’ve ever wanted

Was to get back in touch.

I’m sorry this is something

We couldn’t figure out—

“Dear Rosie,

Or whoever I’m

Talking to now,

Did you forget to

Write back, or did

The last 20 letters

Get caught up in the post,

Have you been throwing them

Away, or is the mailman

Holding onto them

To spare me the pain—

“Dear Rosie,

If I came to the coffee shop

Could we talk,

All I need is a couple minutes

To get it all off my chest—

“Dear Rosie,

Are you just gonna-”

“Dear Rosie,

Can we just—

“Rosie,

Am I worth the time of day?”

“Rosie, do you

Still like my writing—

“Rosie,

Do you

Ever think about

Me?”

“Dear Rosie,

How’ve you been?

Please, write back soon.

-The boy with the sad eyes and the blue smile”