Sunday, October 4, 2009

I Picture You Beautiful

I picture you as beautiful.
Lying in the grass, face toward the sky, light in your hair, rolled up checked shirt sleeves...your eyes closed, your lips curled into a smile, your fingers playing with blades of grass...I picture you there, propped on your elbows and beautiful, beside me.

It is the last complete memory I have of you. Like a faded photograph, folded and yellow and torn at the sides, I take out to look at from time to time.

You are supposed to lose someone, mourn the loss of them, move past it and wake up one day and finally be happy again. That happened.

But nobody tells you that one night you might be walking along, feel a breeze, look up at the sky and suddenly in that perfect moment, have a rogue memory that makes your breath stop short.

I don't understand how you forget that this was the one that made you the person you are today. That every other person that comes after is compared and contrasted against him. I don't understand how you become the person that was before him. How do you revert back?

Do you forget that someone like him exists? Do you erase him completely? How do you tear up that one perfect picture you have of him in your memory box that escapes from time to time? I want to revert back. I want to backspace to the part that came before him. How the hell do I do that?

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