How I Learned To Act

My first thought as I headed back to my car
the night we broke up
the August he left for college
and I finished high school
was that I would no longer have to pretend
to care about pro-wrestling.

For eight months, I had listened to rants
about The Rock
and the Undertaker
while smiling and nodding,
yawning through my nose.

I would sit on the couch
on weekends, hoping that maybe we’d make out
but instead, we’d sit, watching grown men
in underwear and tights
scream at the crowd,
Vaseline covered muscles glistening
in the stage lighting,
and hit one another with folding chairs.

In May, when he returned from his first
collegiate experience
I asked him what he missed most
and he said he missed watching wrestling
with a girl who could really appreciate the sport.