The Blood & The Bones

There are things we forget when one leaves and things that revisit us without warning..

Like that time you spun me around in the middle of the sidewalk and pressed your mouth to mine… you kissed me hard under the streetlights in the middle of downtown.   And not long after that, on another night a few streets away, you pushed me against the damp wall of an old building and you did it again. Unexpectedly and out of character. I was taken aback and asked why you did this.. It was so unlike you. But, when I think about it.. maybe that was you.  Maybe the rest was what wasn’t real.

And when you said that I looked as if I needed to be kissed and so, without a thought of much else, you did it.  When you said that I knew you did it for me and for you.  Those moments are when I think your armor was slipping.   The one you use to protect you from feeling.. from being vulnerable. Times like that, loving me wasn’t hard, wasn’t always something you tried to run from. If you’d of let yourself be free to this always, I think you would’ve seen that loving me was natural.. almost vital. Almost like like breathing.  Something you forget you are doing but that keeps you alive. And in those moments, it was as if you couldn’t imagine living without me. Yet, in the end, you chose to and I still don’t know if its easier now or not.  Maybe I never will.

Everyone says I should’ve moved on by now.  I’m trying.  But, fuck if these memories don’t pull me back in again making me think if I just waited a little longer, just a little, he’ll come back.  That turns into days and weeks and now months.  And you don’t.  But the way you twirled me around, looked into my eyes pressing your body so firmly against me before kissing me like it was the first and the last time… those are the kind of memories that make me hope one day you will.

LL~