I don’t think I understood romance.
I know I didn’t understand her
when she asked to stay the night
before she’d asked me out.
I don’t think she understood romance
any better than I under her
– or myself for that matter.

I didn’t know what to do
after putting her in the loft bed
and listening to her tell me
how she hated her mother
and getting out of high school
was really going to change things.

I listened to her for a while
as her breathing altered
from when she raged
to telling quieter stories
to when she finally fell asleep.
I looked up at the bottom of my loft
where she softly snored.

I was not sure what role
I was expected to play with this girl
or what role
I was prepared to fulfill.
I didn’t know for sure whether
those two areas converged at all.

The morning
did not clarify as much as I’d hoped.