Me Remember You
I remember your eyes, and when I looked into them, I swear, it was like I was seeing the lost city of Atlantis for the first time. You were standing in front of me, and it was like your soul and my soul were connected. This was our special place away from the world, and it would continue to be our little secret for as long as we wanted it to be.
I remember you walked over and shushed me by putting your pointer finger over my lips. Your warm breath turned into soft words as they penetrated my left ear lobe.
“Stay for a while,” you whispered and hovered near me. “Please! I need you.”
“Okay,” I replied. “I had no intention of leaving anyway.”
I remember you were more reliable than some things I’ve known my entire life, and I instantly realized how special our connection was. Your love was like feeling the sun from both sides, and your kiss could turn snowflakes into raindrops. When you held my hand and told me everything was going to be okay, for once in my life I believed you. I could tell you were not like the other girls just by the way you wore a fragile smile. Your body sliced the air as you walked in front of me, close enough so I could catch a trace of your perfume. By the way you looked at me from across the room, I could tell your advancing glances were hungry. Our eyes locked onto one another’s like felon’s feet on a chain gang. You realized I knew these things about you, yet you were fine with it because you realized the same things about me.
I remember you were like the moon to me, a distant planet wanting to be noticed while hovering above my head on a cloudless night. The pull of your gravity affected me. The stages you went through over the span of a month were funny to observe. One night, I might get pj pants and a tank top. Another night, I might get no pants and an oversized t-shirt that slightly sashayed over your petite right shoulder. If you ever brought out the black dress and stilettos then I knew to be on the look out because I was in for a long night and a good one at that.
I remember you were always that person that I could never completely figure out. As a matter of fact, you would not let anyone figure you out. You seemed genuine but distant. I wondered about you for the simple fact that you kept yourself hidden from everyone else except me. You were an attractive mystery, and a lifetime of clues would not solve the puzzle that made you, you.
I remember your vulnerabilities. I never shouted them to the world and kept them locked away until you wanted me to use them against you. We promised to never let go of the energy between us because it took us to places that I had never been to before. Transformed, I saw us in a tree filled forest, walking barefooted on moss like carpet. A creek trickled nearby, sweet serenity, and you touched my face. Transformed, I saw us snowboarding down a perfect mountain, a mountain we had all to ourselves. You were bundled in a blanket of white, and you held onto me until your muscles trembled. Your effort delicately painted the sky with a soft brush and set the horizon ablaze, our eternal fire ignited to help keep us warm. Every time I was near you, you caught my eye like a lipstick stained cigarette sitting in a murder suspect’s ashtray.
I can still remember the sound of the ocean waves as the sea breeze blew past my body. One hour turned into a lifetime, and my hands and feet were still cold from where your memories took me.
I remember you. The funny thing is, if you sit around long enough and think about things like I occasionally do, you will remember me too.
Just so you know, I will be there waiting by the line that we drew in the sand and dared one another to cross.
This is me remembering you.