had it been that way

she vomited and came
out of the
bathroom with
colorful spit on
her chin
and in her hair

lied down in bed

"Better on your side," I said,
"not your back."

And she said, "Does it ever grip you?"

"What? Hangover?"

"No. The longing to... to just
return home.
Home where you grew up. Where
the world was introduced to you."

"No."

"C'mon, really? Never?"

"I do get nostalgic at times. But
then I remind myself that
nostalgia is just another
form of depression. The most
pleasant one, but... still a form.
I have enough of
them, and an extra one is not
welcome. Not as long
as I can do something about it."

"You're cold. But I don't mean
nostalgia. Not exactly.
Look, you ever, uh, planted
flowers in the garden?"

"I don't remember. Why?"

"Well--"

"Actually, I do remember this one time
when my little cousin and
I placed an apricot seed in the
ground.
Of course we hoped for
an apricot tree to grow but...
Well, you know how it is
when you're a kid, patience is
never among your attributes. The younger
you are, the less you have.
My cousin, he was younger than me.
So he lacked patience more
than I did.
As the days passes and the apricot
tree didn't show up
from the ground... his patience
reached its end.
That was it, he wanted to dig it out
and look at the damn seed,
see if it sprouted or whatever.
And I told him, begged him
to stop
that stupidity and give it
more time.
I was very serious about it.
But the more serious I was
the less serious he grew
until eventually it was a sick game
or him versus I
with him constantly threatening to
unearth the seed, a menacing,
cartoon villain grin on his face all the
while.
I had to hold him
back
and then, still grinning, he'd swear
he won't do it if I let
go.
I let go and he immediately went
back to the spot we buried the
damn seed and
after he did it a few times
I... guess I snapped.
I punched him square in the face.
Pretty damn hard indeed. Hard for
a kid, I mean.
Immediately the blood came rushing
out and fell on the ground. Right
on the spot where we buried the
seed.
Now, I know it would've sounded so
damn poetic an' all if I said
the apricot seed took his blood in
and grew a tree, but c'mon, this is
real life we're talking
here.
He just bled from his nose and shrieked
like a fucking devil
and I wanted to just
punch him again. Harder.
Yeah... I didn't do it.
It was too late anyways. Grandma came
to the commotion and
I got my punishment. Nothing too
extreme, just... just something
to remind me
of that time when I tried to
plant something, create life, and...
failed because of
somebody else.
That's my only memory of trying
to plant something.
Not very happy as you can see."

Right
but
she fell asleep
in the middle of the story

wouldn't be
the first time

this is
real life after all

it can't go like in
fairy tales
or even ordinary tales

Had it went that way
she would've
empathized with my story, I guess,
and seek to console me
in some way

had it went that
way
there would've been some
poetic justice
somewhere, just ready to poke its
magical head out

hat it went that
way
she would've been
real

But this ain't no story

it's just
real life

Many thanks to Gobblers by Masticadores for featuring my poem, "had it been that way"! 

Check it out HERE!

Thank you!