To Frank

Dear Frank,

When I was thirteen

I promised you my heart

All these years later

And here we are

Me still holding my heart

You—dead

And I have something to tell you

And you’re not going to like it

But I’m going to tell you anyway

So you’re just going to have to learn

To live with it

Which shouldn’t be too hard

Since you’ve been gone for so long

Here goes nothing—

I’m getting married, Frank

He’s a real nice guy

From the neighborhood

I’ve known him since I was eight years old

His name is Carmine Romano

I’m going to be Mrs. Carmine Romano

And I gotta tell you

I’m pretty excited about it

When you go through your whole life

With the last name Uberschwayne

Romano is a breath of fresh air

Carmine first proposed to me

When we were ten years old

He waited two whole years

The chicken

Then he asked me again when I was seventeen

Right after we both finished school

I said—

‘I can’t marry you, Carmine.  I’m already engaged.’

He said—‘To who?’

And I said—‘To Frank Sinatra’

And he just laughed at me

So I told him to go to hell

Then he told his mom what I said

And she called my mom

And my mom washed my mouth out with soap

And I swore I would never speak to Carmine Romano again

And you know what?

I didn’t

Not until last year

When his wife died

And I called to give my condolences

That’s right

He’s a widower

And a rat fink

But he’s also kind of nice

Once you get to know him

When he proposed to me last week

He said, ‘Just so you know, nobody could ever take the place of my wife’

And I said, ‘That’s okay, you could never take the place of my Frank’

And we both thought that was just fine

Neither one of us likes cottage cheese

And we both enjoy going to the movies

At three o’clock on a Thursday

And I think we can build something

On all of that

The only thing is—

He can’t sing

Not even a little

He tries, the poor thing

But it always sounds like

A drowning man

Yelling for help

Since I didn’t marry you

I always thought maybe

If I did get married

It would be to somebody

Who could sing to me

But you don’t always get what you’re looking for

And sometimes, you get other stuff

To make up for it

I remember listening to your records in my room

Thinking that you were the only man

Who truly understood me

Something about the way

You sang certain words

Something about the way

You sang about women

Something about the way

You looked in all those magazines

Like…

Like you were looking right at me

You’re always going to be my first love, Frank

But it looks like you’re not going to be my last

And I hope you understand

Between you and me

I’m tired of being alone

I didn’t mind it when I was young

But when you get older

You like looking across the room from you

And seeing somebody there

I’ll still play your music

When Carmine’s not home

And I’m keeping all those magazines

That I’ve had since I was a kid

You never forget your first guy

And I’m never going to forget you

But I’m getting married

To a boy from the neighborhood

I probably should have married

Forty years ago

What can I say, Frank?

That’s life