Two Sad Boys

6:30 AM
Late November
I climb into the passenger seat of a minivan as old as I am
I say “good morning” because I don’t really know what else to say
He says good morning too 

He drives and we talk
Grabbing the words that float around us and piecing them into normal people conversation
It was probably just bullshit
I don’t even remember what we said
But I remember what he did when we got out of his van
He slung his arm around my waist and pulled me in

The first time you kiss someone is always the hardest 

In his room, he turns out the light and I am quietly grateful
Not because I don’t want him to see me
 But because the thought of bodies
Our bodies
Moving together in the dark is a beautiful one
And I like when things are poetic without me making them poetic 

I tell him I’ve never been with a cis guy before
And I think he’s surprised
But it’s dark and I’m not really paying much attention to his face right now 

He doesn’t treat me like a blushing virgin because I’m not 

I tell him it’s been almost 3 years since someone made me cum
And I think he takes that as a challenge 

At some point he asks me if I’ve lost count
And between my giggles and gasps
I say
“I think 4” 

And this is not love
This is two sad boys fucking on an air mattress as the sun rises
Pink morning pouring through curtainless windows
And I don’t even care
All I care about is this moment as I’m in it 

The second time
We don’t even fuck
It’s 11:05 AM
And I’m sitting on his front porch finishing a cigarette 

He has curtains now
The room is dark as we curl together
He smells
So good
And we just sleep
And I have just slept with many others
Friends and lovers but this
Was another level
And I don’t know how or why but
It’s the best 

At 4:27 PM
He told me he has a girlfriend now
And I am quietly disappointed
Even though I know I shouldn’t be
There were no promises or expectations
But still I had hoped for at least one more night
Or early morning
With this boy who made me feel so comfortable
So unguarded
In this world in which I am always uncomfortable
And guarded 

I tell him I am happy for him
And this is true
I am always happy for my friends when happiness comes to them
Even if it’s at the cost of my own
Especially if it’s at the cost of my own 

I am happy for you
And sad for myself
And back where I started.

Etc. is a 22-year-old performance poet from Jamestown, New York. A lover of the art and power of words, they have been writing for well over a decade. Etc. uses their poetry to help others understand them, but also to help understand themself. They write about being mentally ill, being trans/non-binary, being queer, and sometimes, about being in love. They really love cats.