As the lights came on and I looked through the crowd, I saw you standing there with that silly smile on your face. After a night out on the town, I believed you to be an illusion, an image from the confines of my memory projected onto some random stranger that looked just like you. But as I blinked and straightened out my thoughts, you remained, with the smile that you wore on the day that you left. You see, they say that time is the best remedy to all wounds, whether it’s something physical like a cut from a harmless piece of paper or a deeper, emotional wound caused by a catalyst of events that leave a vacant room in our hearts. Needless to say, on the ride home that night, I continued to think of you. I saw you hopping along streetlamps like a ballerina floating along to a familiar tune on stage. At the diner, I saw you seated across from me, ordering strawberry waffles because those were your favorites and if a menu had it, you could never say no. I saw you tucking me in before I drifted off to sleep and entered a world where the line of reality and fiction became thin and barely noticeable. But I did not see you when I awoke the next morning, much to my dismay. I searched through the house, just to find a trace of you that wasn’t in the form of photographs or a box neatly placed at the foot of my bed. Maybe one day, someone will create a device that will allow the general public to relive memories over and over and over again. Maybe one day, someone will create a serum or a procedure that will allow people like me to completely erase certain memories that they are unable to forget. Perhaps one day, I will see you again, in the flesh, standing right in front of me with that silly, warm smile on your face.
When we first met, you were studying with a group of friends (or classmates) at a corner table inside of the local Starbucks. You were laughing then, a loud and obnoxious laugh, but a laugh that I slowly became used to as time went by. In the beginning, our eyes gravitated towards each other, sometimes staring for a second too long, before one of us suddenly broke eye contact. It was a game of push and pull, but an enjoyable game nonetheless. Then by some chance our orders got mixed up and just as sudden as an afternoon shower, we became friends. In a matter of months, we both filled the empty spaces that had accumulated over the years, an emptiness that always begged for more but was never satisfied with what was given. But we were enough for each other. We became the sad, acoustic love songs that we wanted to hear after a break up. We became the relaxtion of a ten day vacation after months of a grueling school year. We became the refreshing glass of cold water in the middle of a summer day. At least that’s what you felt like to me. Isn’t it strange how much space just one person can occupy in your heart? Isn’t it strange that even though two people are nothing close to lovers, they can be soulmates that trascend the tests of time? Isn’t it strange that somehow we managed to fall apart, although the red string of fate was bound so tightly around us? I know that this is coming out nowhere and maybe you still don’t want to hear from me yet, or even at all. But I hope that one day you meet your soulmate at the corner table of your local Starbucks. I hope that they’ll take your hand and promise you as close to forever as possible. I hope they keep their promise.
I hope they are nothing like me,
One night you told me that you wanted to be in the company of the best. In seconds, I phoned a handful of our closest friends and within the hour, we created a dance floor out of the mall parking lot. On some lazy weekend afternoon, you mentioned that you wanted to be alone, so I brought out the last of the cookies and cream and with it, the password to my Netflix account scribbled on a torn piece of paper. A few hours later, as I drank the last of my coffee at the Starbucks down the road, I received a phone call from you, asking me to come home. We had many moments like these, many moments that I am only able to relive through my memories. But even now, I am starting to forget what it was like to be with you. To be with someone that I considered a best friend, a family member, someone who I thought would be with me for the rest of the days of my life. Sadly, our red string of fate was cut short and like two leaves falling into a stream, we were swept away by life’s current and ended up separated from each other, washed up on opposite shores. At this point, you should only be a memory, a chapter in my life that should have been closed long ago. However, if truth be told, I think of you every now and then. You slip into my prayers as I wash up for the night and your face appears onto the shoulders of strangers that I pass by on the street. I will not lie: I miss you, terribly and without reason. I miss you. I’m unable to physically say this, so I write it in a letter, I write it in a poem that is unable to see the light of day, I write it into the characters of a short story that remains fictitious and resides in a realm, a thousand or more leagues away from reality.
I write about you and all of the things that I am still unable to say,