Dear DW,
Why are you in my head tonight? I don’t understand… it’s been nearly five years and the fire that burned so fiercely once, has long since died and turned over to gray, cold ashes in my heart. Yet still, my mind has been missing a memory tonight, and I can’t seem to figure out why. So obscure too… a stream bed on a summer’s afternoon, the bubbling noise from over our shoulders, the bright green glow from the young leaves above as they wheel around us, whispering… an image burned forever in the deep quiet of my heart, seemingly so inconsequential but nevertheless, something magical.
Is it because the nights grow lonelier as Spring and Light blossom all around and the coupling of creatures runs like instinct through the blood? Have I been awakened — caught sight of the Me that was lost, for just this fleeting moment? And into the silence and anticipation, this memory of you has stepped, in order to remind me of the passion that was… the passion that is possible, maybe… yet depressingly perhaps not, after all? I can not tell, all I know is that as I lay in the thick dark of this unusually sticky May eve, this quiet memory blazed into my head and stirred my heart in a way I haven’t felt in years. I miss you. But not. I miss the memory that was you. That was us. And nothing more.
I ask now only for the strength to endure, in openness, with the grace to try … and to fail, again, and ever again, in search of such a memory. To make it real once more.
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