She has finally moved Her things. For the last seven or eight months Her stuff has filled my second living room. It is a bitter sweet thing this Her moving her stuff out. On one hand I have my home, and it is no longer in limbo. On the other it symbolizes another nail in the coffin of our life together.
There She sat, two rows of seats in front of me. She was wearing a sweatshirt, University of Idaho on the front I think, and a pair of sweats. From behind Her thick curly hair looked a bit wild, dirty blond. I think I had seen her before that, but I am not sure. At one point She got up to get a cup of coffee or to go to the bathroom, and my world stopped. She had to have been one of the most beautiful creatures I had ever seen.
Others may argue with me about that, but I don’t care, that was how I felt at the time, and at times I still feel that way. She has the most amazingly blue eyes, the kind of eyes people have killed over. And she surely is cute, a petite thing, with a perfect smile.
A few days went by without seeing Her, then I saw Her again…At the time I was dating a real nice girl named Erin, and I wasn’t looking for anyone else. But still, She struck me and struck hard! On that night She was lamenting about how hard her life was, and being the kind and compassionate person I was I pointed out that usually the problems I have are caused by me…nice aren’t I? I was an arrogant prick, but what I said was true.
My first impression was that She took my breath away…Hers was wishing that I had never had a first breath. I laugh at that now, how young I was, not just in years, but emotionally young. The funny thing is I can still smell the room, feel the chair under me, and I remember exactly where we sat in relation to each other. In fact every time I go to that room I remember that night, those two nights. The last nine years of my life started on those two nights, for good, and bad.
Walking from THE dream
Like some ass backwards
Nightmare on Elm Street
THE dream can be a fickle thing
Leaving heart shaped craters
Where memories used to be
Sliced up ribbons of soul flesh
Cancerous lesions overwhelm
The natural feel of the love that was
Chris McQueeney 7/24/12 9:52 P.M.