Yet another repost. This usually means that I'm feeling lazy, but this time it just means that I've already said it all before. And hey, building an entry about memories from an old entry seems quite fitting:
For a while, after she got her hair cut, her hand would still move to her shoulder, and her fingers would twirl hair that wasn't there anymore. She did it all the time, and then she'd laugh at herself because she forgot.I remember times after I wrote that entry.
I remember how she looked in my bathrobe. How it would never stay closed. I remember hiding the belt so it would never close again, and how she laughed when I told her what I'd done.
She'd take her finger and trace soft circles on my arm, or on my hand, or on my chest. It wasn't enough for her to touch me - she always had to give it that little bit extra.
In my peripheral vision, I'd see her looking at me, and when I'd turn my head and catch her doing it, she'd always blush.
I remember how she'd fall asleep in the car, no matter how short the drive was.
She would grab my hand, and hold it tightly when we had to walk by strangers on the way back to our cars.
I remember the little dance she did once when a song she liked came on the radio.
One morning I woke up to her whispering my name. My cat had finally allowed her to pick him up, and she was standing by the bed holding him. She was so excited.
When she was struggling, trying to think of the perfect words to say, her face would get all contorted, and I'd mimic her expression until she caught me.
She was so very nervous, that first time, and when we were done the sweat glistened on her skin like a million tiny stars.
I remember all of these little things, and so many more. I think that I will remember them forever.
It's such a cruel world that let's me love every single thing about a person, but that won't let my heart take that extra step.
Such a cruel fucking world.
I remember trying so hard to look at her and see only her, but always always always fucking always looking beyond her, over her shoulder. Looking for someone who wasn't there.
I remember coming home that one night, and finding her sitting on my couch, with my cat Nugget in her lap. She'd had a bad day, and she'd known that I'd welcome her no matter what. I owed her that much, after all.
I remember welcoming her.
I remember how hard we tried to make it last, but how it always felt like we were just treading water. Staying alive, but not really living.
I remember that night last Summer. The last time I saw her, when everything was almost exactly as it had been before. Only the new ring on her finger whispered the truth.
I remember everything. This is my gift, and my curse.
I talked to her tonight, for a while. I wish I could say that it was just like old times, but it wasn't. Those old times are gone forever, and we both know it. We just like to relive those times, every now and then. It's nice, in a poignant way. It reminds us that there was once something that was important. And that, no matter how tough things get for the two of us as we struggle to live our separate lives, there is still something that's important.
I walked away from her, years ago. I know why I did it and, by now, so does she. I know it, but I still can't really believe that I did it. She knows it, but she still can't really accept that I did it on my own. That it wasn't her fault. That she didn't push me away.
There are so many things I wish I could forget, so many memories I wish I could erase from my mind. But, among those memories, there's not a single second that I spent with her.