I found myself standing at the door, touching the lock pushing it in and out, thinking it would perhaps help me decide what to do with you. There we were, resting on the same doorframe, staring at the same awful carpet. You startle my thoughts when you ask the same questions that you've been in the same order without fail. No you can't come in no I'm not ready to talk and no I don't want you to leave. We're stuck in limbo together and as apart as we've grown, I've never felt the tension between our bodies as strongly as I am feeling them now on this doorstep. A neighbor passes and I can't even manage a smile. You shift uneasily and I follow suit shifting my body like your body. Even in the mess of our fallen relationship I still admire you so greatly that I mirror your actions and reactions. In the moment I want to grab your rough hands or be in your warm arms like we used to do after we cried. Your straight face doesn't suggest that you want the same. You, my uninvited visitor; we refrain from collapsing right there where we stand, the chipping doorframe holding up our fragile selves. With your patience I gained insight. How long have we been standing here and how soon can we sit down? What was it that you said that brought me back to life? Let me hold you, or was it the fact that you did without an answer? Of all the embarassing shouting matches, nothing compared to being held in the doorway of my own home with all the neighbors to see. Us on display like a rectagular tv but what made me forget it all was the cold wind and how after we let go you made us some tea. Searching my cabinets like a regular pro, my uninvited guest, you collected the mugs, the loose leaves, and the honey for me. I accepted the dipped honey comb stick and smiled to myself that even after the cursing and name calling we were able to remember our favorites parts of each other and each others favorite things.