The memories strike me like lightning at any given moment of
the day. These are precious moments I never want to let go
of. I keep diving back into them, so deep even in the gaps
my mind fills, that I'm bound for disappointment when I
finally meet you.
I remember so vividly - the various colors in your hair and
the touch of your curls. The shape of your lips, the way you
walk, the blue jacket in which pockets you're used to stick
your hands so they'll be warm. The warmth flowing from your
hands. Their size. Your long fingernails for guitar playing
("careful with my career there...!"), your guitar with the
portrait you've drawn and attached to it. The headache I
used to get after being at your place (I'm not used to the
loud music). The cold kisses that were all I dared giving
you after we said goodbye on the street. The hot kisses. The
time you held me when we sat on a rock near the fields. Our
talks. Your stories and how you made me laugh. The color of
you skin, the way your hands occasionally melt (sweat) in
mine. Your eyes. The way you used to greet me. The way you
stroke my nose, mess my hair, bite my fingers. Bite me. The
way you squirmed and your grip of my body tightened when I
bit you. Your voice. I love your voice. The way your house
smelled. Your smell (beg the difference). Your tattooed body
and the times I realized just how beautiful you are. Your
friends. The way you made me feel - safe, loved, wanted,
special. Your kindness, your consideration, your honesty.
Just you.
People around me say that time heals all wounds and that
it's better for me to go on living my life. I guess they
just don't know how sweet can missing you be.