It has been three months since you left to plan spaceship routes on Jupiter. My family is really impressed by you. Its a great opportunity and I’m in full support. Fortunately and unfortunately, we are in love with each other , and now we are on different planets. So now I am sick and feel like I might die.
I read a Huffington Post article that said I should share with you the things I tend to do since you left for Jupiter, but I don’t trust my mind, so I have written them all down on these post-it notes.
I have been working a lot on this space shuttle I bought from IKEA. I’m going to come see you with it. There are a hundred million thousand pieces and the instructions are in morse code, but I’m making do.
I spend a lot of time with the old man next door. He is always coming over, constantly looking over my shoulder and telling me how terrible I am at putting space shuttles together. Why didn’t you pay them to put it together for you, he always says. I think I might poison him tomorrow.
When I am not building the space shuttle, I am doing things we use to do because they remind me of you. Is that weird? Sometimes I will walk the same path we took to this place or that. Sometimes I will talk to you but you aren’t really here, you are on Jupiter. But even then, sometimes you talk back. I will see a doctor about this.
I made a pillow and I have been calling it by your name. This is your pillow doppelgänger now. Of course I don’t sleep now, so we just talk about you all night. I will see a doctor about this too.
Sometimes I will go to the park and find a boulder and I will push it up a hill. This reminds me of all of the time I spent not being with you before I was with you before you went away to Jupiter.
I think about all of those space men. Are those space men leaving you alone? Do they know that you are mine?
I think about all of those alien men. Are those alien men leaving you alone?
I have no use for Earth girls now. There is only this Jupiter girl.
I go to that bad mexican place for every meal. It reminds me of you. I know it made both of us sick, but I can’t help it. I scream a lot at night now, but there is a trace of you left there.
I spend the nights I am not screaming at the launch pad. I like to gaze at the path you took to Jupiter. Sometimes, if I squint, I think I can see Jupiter. Can you see Earth?