Sometimes

Sometimes I wish I could keep you in my back pocket. The way we keep our cell phones glued to us at all times. That way I could take you out and look at you whenever I'd like. Tell you how much I've missed you in the time that's passed by.

Sometimes I wish you could hear all the words in my head, but then there would be nothing left to had said. Strange isn't it? To look into someone's eyes and hold their hands across a picnic table, share a beer or a glass of wine and try to tell them the things that your heart is thinking.

Sometimes I still watch people as they pass by. Their eyes straight forward on a destination unknown, and I stop and stare and wonder who they are and where they are going. What memories lie behind the mask they wear everyday.

I remember doing this with you, and I loved it. Sitting in a mall food court sharing a plate of flautas. Carrying a conversation of very few words, but watching others as they lived their lives. Watching, waiting, wondering.

Someone more peculiar than the rest would walk by and we would ask each other what we thought they were doing. What their life was like. How did they end up in a mall food court walking by two people staring at strangers.

Sometimes I still lay out on a blanket in the summer time on a soft grassy hill and let the sun bake my skin pink. I'll close my eyes and hear the buzz of summer around me as people laugh and drink and live. When it gets too hot I run and jump in the river and do it all over again. Sometimes I still wish I could roll over on the blanket into you and plant a kiss on your cheek just because I'd like to.

Sometimes I wish I had never met you, so I didn't have to sit here on a Thursday afternoon at 3pm remembering the things I loved about you and I and us. So sometimes at 3:01pm I shake my head clear and pretend I made it all up. Let the feelings float from in front of my vision to the pit of my heart and sometimes back to the corner of my eyes. I get up to go to some restroom mirror and maybe have just enough time to cry and wipe the tears goodbye.

Who I was with you has died. A part of me and a part of you and who we called "us" has to be un-alive. Because when I stare in the mirror at 3:05 there is no longer we and us, just I staring back at myself pretending I made you up.

So sometimes, I'll sit alone at home and those thoughts still make me cry. As I listen to that one song I may even wonder...why? Why did our souls have to part, how I could be this okay and still have a broken heart? How could I walk away and still love you more than anyone I've ever known. How could you say you loved me and still hurt me so.

So sometimes I sigh and roll over in my empty bed, and I figure there will never be an answer to the questions in my head. Just like there will never be an answer as to why I was drawn to you and you to me. We were just two strangers once and we decided to try and be each other's everything.

Sometimes....that's just the way things have to be.