Hello, Love Lost

Aching to slow down and settle into a memory book of bed sheets last night, I rested my eyes, stomach down in the second story of a house in Syracuse. The inhale great but the exhale greater, I opened my eyes in an instant, only to stare at a greyness that was either my pillow case or my soreness for love. I grew goosebumps as a familiar smell filled my nostrils after bouncing off the pillow surface. I’m still perplexed at how it happened, but the way my breath smelled was the exact same of my ex-girlfriend’s when she woke up. By no means was this a foul smell, just familiar. I clenched my blankets tight as I built bridges back to memories I forced distance between for the sake of sanity. Recalling waking up early to sneak to her bed and whisper silly things in her ears, the way she’d never open her eyes to see who it was, only smile and lift the covers with open arms. She always hated when I kissed her in the morning, but only because she felt disgusting and I’d just lay with her and start the day by reassuring her that she was far from disgusting. We’d lay tying knots with our legs and brushing skin with our lips in moments of absolute bliss.

This recollection proved to be far more fierce than the beginning so implied. Love lost is painful and watching part of me walk away, has been my eyes all too familiar place in life.

Suddenly, I find myself sitting shirtless on a Syracuse rooftop sipping chai green tea as stirring winds are saluted by goosebumps and a racing imagination. Chirping from the locals of the trees peak and descend casually and I am thankful for their place in my world. With disheveled hair and shivering bones, I create a world in which the window to the sun porch next door frames a lovely girl interested in my morning. I stumble upon insecurities in front of a girl so lovely, but she is transparent and I regain confidence. The lock of a window finds me sitting staring to my right in disbelief of the moment, as she disappears to the world below her. I crawl into my window and my life proceeds. Over the next few weeks, we speak, but only with the same distance between the driveway. Paper airplanes gain miles and smiles shine when ears are greeted by, “I hoped you’d be here.” We’ve laid here many nights as we look at the same sky from twenty feet apart and we find joy in the warmth neither one of us has extended to the others skin. The arrival of certainty will one day sound like a knock on the door and the bridge will be a porch a home owner built and all will be glorious on the day in that world I did one morning create.

But you can’t imagine love.

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