A/n I hate poetry and everything to do with poetry, so I don't know if this is good or not. But I had to write a love poem for class and this happened. Let me know what you think because I have to turn it in for a grade and I need feedback.

This is based off of the Lassiter/Victoria story arch from Tuesday The 17th.

I'm considering changing the title to Tuesday The 17th or Good Day, or I want what you want, or maybe I'll just keep it how it is. Tell me what you think.

AND I suggest you play Good Day by Pricilla Ahn whilst reading it. I wrote the thing with it on repeat.

Lighting them on fire and putting them back in your purse.

I looked down at the flowers I had spent hours choosing.

I had showed up early because I was nervous.

There was an open bar. I thought it was a good idea.

I looked up from the flowers and you were there too, half way through your drink.

"I showed up early because I was nervous." You say.

I smiled because we are perfect for each other.

We made small talk.

You said you liked the slight graying of my sideburns

I said I liked your new hair. I was lying, but you like your new hair so that means I do too.

We made it through the whole dinner.

I thought this was the night my wife would fall back in love with me and we'd forget my past.

I couldn't take it any longer.

I told you that I wanted to start over and that I wanted to show you I finally broke the padlock on my heart. I pushed the necklace I spent a month's rent on toward you. I told you not to say anything. Just put it on and love me like you used to.

You pushed it away. My heart shifted. You shoved a manila envelope towards me.

Divorce papers.

I swallowed hard. Twice. "I thought you understood." You say and you excused yourself.

I stared at the piece of paper that with only my signature would officially end a part of my life I desperately wanted back.

You came back with some speech you'd rehearsed in the ladies room.

I stopped you. "I signed it already."

You were surprised that I hadn't thrown them in the fire next to our table.

I was surprised I hadn't lit them on fire and put them back in your purse.

You kissed me because you seemed to want to hurt me more. I didn't reject the kiss. You pulled away far too soon. You threw out some overused line about always loving me. I didn't respond. "Say something."

I wanted to tell you that I would do anything to get you back. That I had changed. That I wasn't the same man who was over-controlling and selfish. That I could love you just as much as I love my job now and, with a little time, I could love you more. That I want nothing more than to be able to introduce you as my wife again.

But I didn't.

I let you go.

Because that's what you wanted so I wanted it too.