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Friday, April 21, 2006

First Meeting

The meeting was a bit of a unique experience.
The first time we met lasted three full days, we haven't seen eachother since.
I would like to have this turn into something bigger instead of being so recollective, but I am not sure where to start the expansion.

In the car is where I choose to think of you now.
It’s a great opportunity to sit in comfort and quiet and flip through our memories.
That’s not to say that you don’t come to mind at any other time.
I do dream of you occasionally, in a clown suit or as yourself.
I’ll think of you as I make my way through my hallway on the weekend and wonder if you’re smiling at that moment, wonder what you’re doing.
I see us sitting by the river after wandering about the theatre.
I hear your voice as you reach down to pet the little dog that came up to our table, its master chuckling and smiling.
I remember us speaking of condoms and school and our laughter mixing.
I think of your leather jacket, how it smelled and felt when your arms were around me in a hug, when you went home after my last cigarette before returning to my apartment.
I remember the talking elevator and I think of how no elevator ride has been quite as fun.
I think of the revolving door, the parking meter, the quick run up to the washroom and the blue couches.
I remember you brushing my hair, my attempt to stay awake for at least a few more hours.
I think of us across the table from each other, eating Italian, the candle wobbling precariously on the edge, the metal handrail I peered through to watch passers by.
Your voice remains, gentle, joyful, warm, asking questions.
The smell of breakfast after walking blocks and blocks, the elation of having you near me for blocks and blocks.
Spotting you in the crowd, the instant hug, the courteousness of your actions, how excited I was, like a child, to finally get to spend time with you.
How I screwed up the passenger side door.
I think of driving with you, us laughing at anything, singing to Van Halen, you swearing at traffic, my eyes taking in storefronts and houses and sidewalks as we flew by them.
I think of how wonderful it will be to one day have you in the passenger seat of my car, in my life, in my world, of how I’ll notice changes in you, of what you will see in me.
I think of our voices joining in once again to ‘Walking in Memphis’ and my fingers on your neck and your smile lighting me up.
I miss you.
Although you’re not far.
Although I can reach for you and you for me whenever the need arises.
Although I have these memories to keep me company.
I miss you.

Comments on "First Meeting"

 

Blogger Tami said ... (11:03 AM) : 

Silentoberver, I think the way you wrote this makes it perfect for the story you are telling. I can feel the rawness of it, the pain in your words...the longing. To be honest, I wouldn't really change anything! Good job and I hope you two are together again someday!

Tami

 

Blogger Diana said ... (11:44 AM) : 

This is my favorite line:

I do dream of you occasionally, in a clown suit or as yourself.

 

Blogger lodgerlow said ... (1:46 PM) : 

When I first started reading this the style really jarred and I didn't want to continue... however after the third sentence I realised that you've chosen a brilliant way to write about the memories. It's pretty clever... because you've conveyed what memories are... lots of little fragments that do, or don't, join up.

This one is my favourite:

How I screwed up the passenger side door.

How perfect. I love how it is so disconnected and random.

 

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