You know what I like about you?
Everything.
Just kidding. But seriously, I can think of lots of stuff. I could, without a moment’s hesitation, present you with a lengthy list of reasons why one might enjoy your company. What’s more, I could tell you about your more appealing qualities without any fear that you would later make me regret having done so. You’ve never been one of those types. But you are a bit on the modest side (a trait that would likely make it high on that list I keep talking about), meaning there’s a chance that bringing up the subject could cause you to feel rather uneasy and self-conscious. And what have you done to deserve that? Not a thing. Therefore, let’s just say that you’re likable.
Against all reason
I’ll keep waiting. I’ll listen for that call, I’ll look for that letter in the mailbox. And if– against all odds– this should ever turn out to be worthwhile, I’ll say that I had always known it would, and I’ll mean it.
When they come find you
Moving forward leaves life to trail off continuously behind us, turning to nebulous wisps to be forgotten or remembered, ignored or missed, and even standing still is to stand in a stream of memories that drift by relentlessly on all sides, soaking and sometimes swallowing us. We know this, we accept this as best we can, we continue as though we had been given a choice and had decided to continue.
But sometimes it all changes. A memory that otherwise may have floated by without being noticed suddenly and unexpectedly becomes much more.
Sure, I’ve thought of you from time to time over the years, and some of these thoughts have lingered longer than others. But just now you surged to the very front of my thoughts, and I recalled the place I always think of when I think of you, when I think of the two of us. And then it was as though the floor had dropped out from below me as I plummeted into that past. I could see you, really see you, and I could feel the wind and your skin and the ground below our feet, and I could smell the damp grass and your hair and the interior of the old car that had gotten us there. I could hear the water that was…wait, where was that water?… and I could hear your voice as though it had only just glided from your lips to my ears, just now. I don’t know why this happened, and I certainly don’t know why it happened now, but suddenly that moment- so long ago- is more real than this one.
What’s wrong, you ask?
Good question. And man, I have no idea what the answer to that one is. Do you know? I mean, is this sort of a trick question? Are you really just checking to see if I know what’s wrong? Is that what’s going on here? Yeah? No?
Oh.
Well… Maybe I was just checking to see if you knew.
That’s a toughie
If someone were to ask me to describe the nature of what I’m writing at this very moment, I wouldn’t have the slightest idea where to begin.
Long time, no _____, eh?
Wow. How long has it been? I don’t know… years, in any case, right? So many years. My head is swimming. Have I told you how great it is to see you again? I can’t help but to laugh out loud.
You look and sound so, so… you, and I can’t even begin to explain why I’m so taken aback by that. After all, what did I expect? Still… just look at you!
And yet my amazement at your sameness is accompanied by a gradual recognition of way after way in which you’ve changed. Nothing big, mind you. So many words, phrases, expressions I don’t recall your ever having said before. They’re good though, yes; keep them. And that little thing you do with your chin– that’s new too, no? Oh my, and your eyes– I’m noticing something there that hadn’t been apparent before. At first I thought my memory was faltering, but no, no, I’m sure of it now: your eyes have seen some things since the the last time they saw me.
Inadvertently catching my own my reflection in those eyes brings the obvious to my attention. Of course I couldn’t have had the realization on my own.
I haven’t been quite so steady as I’d thought, have I?
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