Meggie Gates

christmas in july

you’re not sure if you remember it correctly, you tell yourself. he said he was sorry and his
sorry starts filling in the blanks for you. the last thing you remember becomes the first. the
christmas lights hanging above his room you think there was a brown robe but it could be the
tuffs of hair on his chest.

I don’t remember a lot of things but remember what I wore that night. I think about it every time
I’m naked in front of a boy without letting him touch me is this too much? is this too much? am I
taking off too much to the point you want me? to the point it’s out of my control? I wore a
white undershirt and a long skirt. I wanted to impress him because I liked him, my bad. I wore
tall green underwear the kind my ex made fun of because he said they were for “old ladies.”
maybe he never said this but I know it’s what he meant. maybe I don’t remember it correctly and
I’ve started filling in the blanks for him.

at some point, I turn to face him. I’m 20 and tired and drunk and lonely and want someone to
love me in whatever term the word “love” means. for me, it’s sleep, curled up next to a body for
comfort when touch brings a girl back to life I don’t know when climbing in to bed meant “yes”
but it translates to “yes” definitive. maybe it was when I took off the green skirt I picked out
earlier so I could lay comfortably. maybe it was when I didn’t say no. all I know is I turned to
face him and the christmas lights overhead were the last lights I saw.
the first lights I saw.

lasts became firsts. our first kiss. our first touch. you’re not sure you envisioned it this way but
this is the way it is now. finding out four months later he didn’t use a condom. finding out
tomorrow morning he ate you out on your period. finding out the minute you wake up, the first
words out of his mouth are

“sorry.”