I have been doing a lot of reflection. Reflecting and remembering these small moments. They collect and I am overwhelmed with what has happened.
I am siting at a seemingly relaxed all be it pretentious dive restaurant. We had been there before. On this first occasion we sat outside in the cold autumn evening with a slight drizzling mist above the awning roof. Every so often a robust raindrop finding its way through a crack, tickling my skin. He offered me his coat and it seemed like perfection. Afterwards riding on the back of his scooter, returning to his apartment in the pouring rain. Running inside and stripping off our wet clothes and warming each others bodies.
But on this second visit theirs a tension, an uneasy build. I can feel it as we make small talk and I smile because I don’t know what to say. Sitting at the bar we order all the deep-fried entrees and deserts. I could still feel it, I don’t know if it was boredom or a lack of general interest. I don’t know why I can’t make piece with this. With sitting at that bar with a boy who is trying to do everything right and says he cares.
I feel like it should be different. I thought I had moved on. I had cried, mourned, regretted the past, but thought you were gone, but your not. Sometimes this chasm feels like you have passed into another life and left me to reflect and decide on my own on how your memory will exist. It hurts. I have been hurting so long. I have blamed myself. I have hurt myself.
And now with these overflowing memories and emotions, I continue to try to let you go. To look at this differently. To accept my choices and to not dwell on yours. I am making peace with what is, not with what was.