Creative Writing: A Couponer's Poem

The bitter wind sends a shiver down my spine and I close my eyes. I try my best to pretend I am somewhere else. At the beach, a breezy summer day, the sun burning my skin a little too harshly. I never appreciated those days enough while they were happening. I’ve always thought a little too much, and I’ve always been a little too self-aware, and I would think to myself, You’re not making the most of it; you’re not enjoying yourself enough. It’s hard to really enjoy something with all that noise going on in your head, and I know that, but- The piercing chirp of crickets crashes over the calm of the waves in my head, and I remember where I really am. The seat of my pants is wet from the grass I’m sitting on, and my skin stings from the cold.

It’s been so long since I’ve been here, I swear that the bark is a little rougher and the whole field a little muddier. Everything seems to get a little worse the older I get, but it’s probably just me. I’m not the idealist I was when my parents were around and all the boxes of my childhood were being ticked off perfectly in sync like an extreme couponer’s grocery list. Birthday presents, holiday parties, Little League, all going according to plan. Now, even the grass feels pointier and stiffer like it’s telling me I don’t belong here anymore. And I know I don’t, but who is grass to say that to

“Hey,” they reply together. I try to decode the tone of their voices, but all I’m getting is a hint of tired. “I wasn’t sure you guys were gonna come, I thought maybe it was a joke. I mean not that you guys would ever do that, that’s just how I think, ya know, I’ve never been the most optimistic.” I’m practically tripping over my words. I just want them to say that they miss me, that they want to try again or even that it was all a stupid joke or that they left the note on accident. Anything to keep me from talking. “You used to be.” Tanya finally cuts me off and I am grateful. And she’s right, I wasn’t all that bad before Charlie, but sometimes it’s hard to remember. Sometimes I feel like I’ve always been the same, like I haven’t done much growing, even since elementary school. As if all this time I’ve already been the person I was going to be and there was never any hope of things turning out