Last year at this time.

I had a boyfriend.
I was sitting in Section 3.
I was living by myself.
Now I am not.

I was happy God and I weren’t fighting anymore.

I weighed ten pounds more.
I had a different last name.
I owned no cats.

I heard “I love you” from a man and for once didn’t freak out.

I was telling my boyfriend to call his ex back.
I was trying to remember just how young 19-21 years old was.
It was much older.
I’ve gotten younger.

I was a hot topic of conversation.
I was boring. And nice. And didn’t care.
I’m still boring. And don’t care.

I was listening to the same song over and over.
And over.
I’m not anymore.
It’s a different song.

I had no idea that next year at this time I would be married.
I had no idea how in love I could be.
And still function.