Pike Place Market, Seattle, Washington
Love at Last Sight
I must have been outright daft to be this out of touch.
What once wrapped around and preoccupied, is now a mystery, is latitudes away; as if simply orbiting my hands; I can’t seem to grasp it. The lack of sleep on this trans-continental trek has me reminiscing of better days, dwelling on each inch that separates us.
We saw things together we never thought possible.
In the world.
In each other.
I can say that knowing full well we will both drift back
to the very same memory with even that simple, broad sentence.
Although those moments are scorched love and will remain the highlights of my adult life, I cannot keep writing or thinking of you. Like post-hominess record sales, you too have been building in my head as something far greater than a past romance; a lost opportunity. A missing friend. A symbol of what could be, and a constant reminder of my mistakes and foolishness. I wonder what you’re doing now, knowing I’m the reason I’ll never know the answer.
Huddled into a cold Salt Lake airport, sketching my emotions into this letter makes as much sense as saying goodbye in the first place. I was and stay a fool. I don’t expect you to understand, in fact, my sober mind would never allow you to know; but these sleepless mornings leave way for loose lips and idle hands.