In the early, early morn, someone leaves footprints while looking for all they can about you.

It may have been you, trying to keep yourself safe, private, but I don't think it was.

Within minutes, something sparks your eye and you are up, probably talking to that same person.

All before the sun comes up.

Please be careful.

It feels different now, not like then.

"I speak of the city built by the dead, inhabited by their stern ghosts, ruled by their despotic memory,
the city I talk to when I talk to nobody, the city that dictates these insomniac words,"

- Octavio Paz

It is torturous to watch yourself slowly be forgotten while you are cursed with an incredible memory and can not forget, even when you try, try, try.

Its like being buried alive or drowning. Agony in a box; under the sea.

The question is: would I do it again? I have thought hard about that. Heart and hope dashed like scraps on a plate. Was it worth it? I'm not sure, but those stellar moments, those stellar moments haunt me as much as the pain. They come to me when I least expect them. They creep into my thoughts and they don't let go. They were good. I truly believe that.

I am probably delusional.

It was a struggle knowing that no one in your camp thought I was good enough for you. But something they don't know. You might find someone you love more. I can pretty much guarantee that, but you won't find someone who will love you as much as I did. Who got you the way I did.

When I read it
I get sad
and a little angry.

So many of those things
you found with me.

Its like a child
who has grown
and left behind
those things unneeded.

An imaginary friend.

A plaything.

"So much of what is best in us is bound up in our love of family, that it remains the measure of our stability because it measures our sense of loyalty. All other pacts of love or fear derive from it and are modeled upon it."
- Haniel Long

Two lovers walked hand in hand on cold autumn's evening. The chill in the air seemingly speeding up the cars; rushing to get somewhere warm. They were lovers, but not for long. Him full of doubt, her full of fear, neither one too old to have given up hope, nor too young to not to be scared. Content, laughs came easy as they gripped each other tighter. Hand in hand, whispered words met smiles as their hearts inched nearer still.

Both poor, this was their night out, their date. A cold bundled walk on some busy streets they knew so well. Headed to that cafe, the one that didn't charge too much for tea. One bag and the biggest cup they had. Both were used to looking for more where they could.

A crossword torn from a paper left behind, tea in hand, they returned into the night.

It wasn't so different from the night they met. Colder, a little darker perhaps, but so similar. That first night still brought flutters. The picnic in the park, followed by drinks in the bar with the terrible service. They didn't dare move, not wanting the date to come to an end. It didn't matter that the grumpy waitress was slow and infrequent, until after she brought the check.

The surprising kiss. How their thoughts kept coming back to that kiss. She seemed taller then, he told her. You were just stooping, she replied. You do that when you meet new people.

He smiled at that thought. She was right, of course.

a long time ago I wrote...

try and monopolize your time, endeavour to get you naked in strange places, kiss you when you least expect it, do nice things for you, warm my bed for you, find interesting music you might like, stroke your leg when we are in the car together, hold your hand in movie theatres. you know, the usual.