Wednesday, February 22, 2012

Quite frankly,

I don't miss you.

But I miss the me that I was when I was yours.
When I was your version of me.
Because she was so happy. And so dedicated. And she was funny and she laughed a lot. And she liked culture and wrote music and she went to the gym every day. She liked herself. She felt inspired and artistic and validated. She was experimental with food and clothing and she never had to apologize for who she was. And she knew that there was a man she could run to when she felt vulnerable and afraid. A man who would appreciate her minus the hair and the make up and the labels. And, goodness, did she love him. He was a solid man. A beautiful man.

A man who would kiss her at all the red lights.

Quite frankly, I hate red lights now.
Because they make me miss you.
And, as I mentioned above, I don't miss you. I mean... I can't...
But red lights ruin everything.

They make me miss the you that you were when my eyes were closed.

Red lights force me to stop and dwell on who I am at that very moment. I'm not in constant motion, not busy thinking about what's to come.
Instead, I have to think about what is.

And I only did that with you. I only wanted what "is" when it was with you... When we would stop at the red light. And you would kiss me.
And at that time, "now" was perfect. We didn't need anything but that very moment.
The future was unspoken of. And all we had was "now."
And, somehow, that was always enough.

Quite frankly, I found myself wishing for all the green lights to turn red. And hoping that you'd slow at the yellow's instead of speed up.
And, you know something? You always did slow down.
I liked to think that it was because a moment with me was more important to you than getting wherever it was we were headed.

You always rolled the windows down in the car. And I would sit in that passenger's seat, so grateful that I was alive. Because, quite frankly, you were simply just too good to be true.
Our time together was a dream to me.
My many memories in that passenger's seat of your car was a dream to me.
You would grab my left hand with your right and my whole body would tingle.
And I would find myself in the perfect state of contentment, sitting there, in that passenger's seat.

And then I would rest my head to the right and close my eyes and just breathe as wind blew into the car and onto my face and all throughout my hair.

And the flawless scent of summer would fill up my lungs, only to become my memory of you.


  1. "the you that you were when my eyes were closed"

    this is incredible stuff, mal. i got shivers. you are so talented.

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  3. Hi this is good. You're good. Bai.

  4. I can NOT get enough of your beautiful writing.


you look really good today!