a girl stuck in the city, craving the ocean, and everything in between
I thought of you today. A memory will always flash by at the beginning of spring. It was a time we were so close. I remember driving your son to the mall to pick out your birthday present. He was all smiles, so eager to please. Were you like him as a boy?
I dreamt of you last night. How you made my bed more inhabitable. I told you my father died and you told me I was beautiful and creative, and that you’re better for knowing me.
Which is true? Which is the dream? My memories blur.
What I remember most is not the way your eyes came alive when you looked at me, your distinct voice when whispered in my ear from behind, not your lips - God your lips - or our intense conversations about shadows and lessons that show up in life. It’s your scent. How you smelled at the end of the day, your head buried in my chest and my fingers in your hair.
We never slept together. We slept in the same bed together, arms and legs intertwined perfectly, but never fucked or made love. We didn’t even date really. We just connected, over and over again. You held me, so fiercely and I swear the world would end if either of us let go. In your skin was the first place I’ve ever felt I truly belonged. You warned me not to love, and you said it to warn yourself as well.
I’ll never forget the last time I saw you. The day you came over to tell me you were engaged. I should have known something was up when I offered you a beer and you said, “I’ll have a glass of wine if you’re opening the bottle.” It was almost two years ago, and I remember it like yesterday. You lingered, you wanted a reaction from me that I could not give. You held me one last time, with what I swear was a look of regret. You kissed me. And still you would not leave. Your explanation that I was always a possibility for you, which is why you had to tell me in person, crushed me. In my eyes, you never gave me any chance. I said “This feels like the last time I will ever see you, and it makes me sad.” So many times I cried in front of you, and I couldn’t that day. I didn’t shed a tear until it really sunk in, two days later.
I’m with someone now, a man who has been in my life for over 12 years, a man who I can love and give to in ways I could never have imagined. And still I cannot forget you. You once made me forget him. Now you make me a walking cliche.
I finally broke down and bought a new bike. Every ride I push myself to go one more lap, 20 or 30 miles at the highest speed my legs and lungs can handle. I push because I’m afraid I will see you again soon at your workplace, where we first met and learned the texture of each other. I push because I will need to stand before you with legs that will not tremble, and lungs that will remember to breathe. I push because if I am stronger physically, maybe I can also just be stronger.
I push because the wind rushing by, my gasping for breath, and my aching muscles help me forget.@2 days ago with 3 notes