January 6th

          I wanted to believe so badly that everything we ever believed in conjured every last drop of their beings in favor of us being together.

          Only, one day, as I glanced around my room that was empty of you, I realized that we weren't as fatefully compatible as I had hoped because there, on the bed, where you would always toss your jacket, sat a zillion-eyed spider, and so I thought to myself, "Who would get rid of it if we're both afraid?"

          But even then, I would be perfectly content with us standing on chairs, screaming at the top of our lungs until the spider wandered its way out because, right now, I don't feel like I can let you go. I'm spiderwebbed to you.