I changed my lipstick three times
ironed my shirt
borrowed my mum’s shoes.
I itched the inside of my elbow
paced the house
clenched my jaw
and later

I almost cried
I almost sobbed
sitting up above it all on the hill
with a best friend
telling her
how nice it was
to hold your hand.

How different things could have been
had I been up there
on that hill
crying my
happy heart out
two years ago.
We would have been
different people
you and I.

And we are different now.

Even if
all we did
was get to know each other all over again
and
sip flat whites,
to the general disdain
of the mothers
on the next table over,
I feel so damn alive
having wasted
a day
with
you.