I'm thankful that I met him, I guess I am, I'm thankful that for a while he made me very happy before he made me very sad. I'm thankful that he made me believe I was a person worthy of being loved, and I'm thankful that he made me feel sexy and funny and smart and like it was OK to be at ease for the first time in a long while.
I'm thankful for the night we danced to Fleetwood Mac in his living room, and I'm thankful that I collapsed laughing on the sofa and watched him twirling to 'Gypsy' (I'm thankful that while he did this he was clad only in an old afghan). I'm thankful that I thought: Well, I'm in love with him, I'm done.
I'm thankful that I loved him in the kind of way that meant that some months later (some months ago), when he told me he didn't want me after all, I believed I could never hear 'Gypsy' again. And I'm thankful that when it came on Spotify on Tuesday night while I drank wine with friends in my apartment, people who love me without ceasing, that I was wrong. I'm thankful that 'Gypsy' is a really good song.
- JHE (4/14).
tinyletter.com/jeanhannah