When we fall in love
Nokyoung Xayasane

When we fall in love
there is a part of us
that is historian.
We go back
in time,
and we recreate
that first moment.

I was 16
and working as a cashier.
You asked me
to go
to the work party.
I said,
I had other plans.
But then
I said,
Yes, I’d go with you.
When I was 24,
you asked me
to marry you.
I said,
Yes,
but then I said, No.
I had other plans.

I was 24.
I had decided
to become
a writer.
I was already a poet,
secretly.
I fell in love
with poetry,
and I fell in love
with you
by accident.
I told you
how I felt,
but you preferred
girls who listened
to Taylor Swift,
exclusively.
I remember
when we hugged,
you’d lift me
off
the
ground.
My head would spin
and the world
was full of light.

I was 27
and I was reeling
from three men.
I now
call them
attachment,
love,
and lust.
I told you
I wanted to learn
how to play the guitar.
I wanted to write songs.
You played me
your creations
and sat
a respectful
distance
away.
I never learned
how to play the guitar,
did I?
And we never wrote
those songs together,
did we?
Instead,
we created
a life
together
until we realized
we could go
no further.

I’m 31
and I’m not sure
if I’m in love
with you.
I don’t know,
to be honest.
I never know
right away.
It always happens
to me
as if
by accident.

Maybe if you invite me
to your work party,
I’ll tell you
I have other plans.

Maybe if you invite me
over for tea,
I’ll go
and lie my head
gently
on the sofa.

Maybe we’ll write
songs together,
but you’re not a musician.
No songs
will be written.

Maybe this,
maybe that.

They say,
there is a part of us
that is historian
when we fall in love.
Is this true?
Yes, I think
maybe,
just maybe,
it is.