The time of year when I fall in love with you all over again... every single year. How can I not? You're just a memory. Until you weren't.
I find it strange how I can put you out of my mind for the rest of the year, but the moment the leaves start to turn, I start to turn to you and the memories of us. I can feel myself needing to stand in the rose garden with you, and to make out in the leaves just off the trails. My legs ache to follow you further than I knew they could go. But most of all, I want to listen to the sound of your voice in the stillness of the woods as you whisper to me about your secret longings and the nightmares you don't dare even think of with anyone else.
Spring will come, and I'll remind myself again that you have a different life. One that doesn't include me. That you're happy that way. That you could never be happy with me... no one can. I'll mourn once again all of the choices I made that pushed you out of my life, until I can once again be glad that you're happy and in love with the beautiful life you always deserved.
But until the cold of Winter has lost it's bite, I'm going to wrap myself in these memories. Just this once I'm going to give in and let myself revel in the daydreams I have of you and me. I'm going to let them consume and warm me. I'll walk with you, and talk with you. I'll make love with you under the stars, and fuck you on the kitchen floor. I'll laugh with you, cry with you, fight with you, and pretend that just for a season, you are mine again.
I'll let these thoughts tear at my soul and destroy me.
I'll let them shatter me into a million little pieces.
I'll clean them up one by one.
Maybe then, I can let you go forever.
Maybe then, I can make myself whole.
Maybe then, I can be at peace.
|Ralph Waldo Emerson|