|
2.5.13
|
Reminders
I went out for a walk during lunch and ended up at a yellow bridge we went to when it first opened a couple months ago. I still remember how it was like that day, in the chilly evening when we walked across that bridge to the other side of some railroad tracks, then further to the edge where we could see the headlights of cars shine as they drove past us on the highway. I remember being silent at that moment in time - it was simply comforting having your presence there that I didn't need to fill it with words. The bridge closed for inspection soon after, so it's now a story I tell others (we could have died that day if the bridge collapsed!), if I tell others about you.
I was cleaning out my snack drawer at work and dug up items from you. Some chocolate and a squeeze bottle of Marmite I got from you in my first ever cat Christmas stocking. An empty Disney Princesses chocolate box from Valentine's Day. The old Christmas chocolates I ate some, the empty Disney box I refuse to discard, the Marmite I can't bear to open. So I put them all back into the drawer where they have been for a while now, and maybe they will stay in there for just a little longer.
I inadvertently came across a (recent?) picture of you. Your hair is longer, and you look oddly foreign yet painfully familiar. Has it only been a month? When will you be getting your haircut? It brought back a lot of emotions and memories once more. Like how I would tell you I liked the way your hair falls or smells, or how I would swipe it to the side to get a better look at you in the light of day when you were still asleep. You look quite content in that picture, which needless to say left me broken again.
I went out for a walk during lunch and walked past a spot. You came by on your bike and got food, I brought my lunch out, and we sat and ate there by the street together. It must have been a funny sight of us both crouching over our food but it must have been a cute picture of two guys trying each others food too. To me, it is an everlasting moment regardless of how small and short of an experience it was.
I read something you shared on Facebook, about house centipedes and spiders. It brought me back to one of the many conversations we had on our first date. We had gone for dinner and visited a bookstore. It was late and I had an early morning shift, yet I didn't want to leave. So we ended up chatting longer by the stairs leading down to the subway station. We talked about house centipedes and spiders, do you remember that? Or am I the only one who cares too much to hold on to such small a detail of a memory?
|
|
Stones taught me to fly
Love taught me to lie
Life taught me to die
Instagram
Facebook
Twitter
|