gifts

it’s been almost two years,

but every color, every scene, reminds me how you made me feel.

maybe time will eventually let those feelings slip away, maybe i don’t want them to go

red rocks and laughing our way through a slot canyon in Utah, hope filled with how our next adventure might go

red rocks and singing “i feel pretty” to cool down heated words about whether the truck and my towed car could back up a few inches in a roundabout

that vivid orange couch in the back of the thrift store and decorating our first place, it’s cool touch welcomed after surfing the summer away

crying on that orange couch, because i couldn’t put my loneliness of being in California into words for you to understand

fluorescent yellow tennis balls and our puppy’s first outing at the dog beach. me, filled with joy; you, filled with terror about the commitment he symbolized

ponderosa pine evergreen & sagebrush gray-green; driving back to Colorado after your birthday in New Mexico, taking the long way home for fun

California lush greens & hazel eyes; when the sun hit them both right, they shimmer

crystalline cyan blue and my first time diving. I was so scared, you so patient and excited to share that part of you with me

murky sea-green kelp forests in the pacific on my last day in town; we held hands and cried as waves gently rocked us. our last time diving together

the thick accent of the Russian immigrant we bought the tufted, velvet, rich royal purple bed frame from. we laughed and danced on that bed, fought and cried on that bed, snuggled and fell deeper in and out of love on that bed

it’s been almost two years,

and time tells me it isn’t about how you made me feel. it’s about how i made me feel and the gifts you gave me of learning how to know myself that much better

I hope those gifts never leave me