Koi Tattoo

I ran my fingers over the smooth skin of his forearm, tracing the outlines of his colorful tattoo. I was overwhelmingly happy to be with him again. I sat close to him on the couch, holding on to his arm, my head on his shoulder, the way we had sat many times before.

When I opened my eyes to find myself alone in my bed, with my brother right in front of me, rifling through my purse, I was instantly consumed with disappointment. Aaron asked if I would go to Lafayette with him, but I was desperate to fall back asleep and into my dream again. Upon returning to sleep, there was not a single moment of Jeremy in my dreams. I was alone.

Dreaming of him only makes it harder. Although for the time that I'm asleep and 'with him', I am happy, when I wake up, his absence is so much stronger. I feel panicky that I can't see him and hear him. For a moment I feel as if these next 6 months are impossible. It is the worst feeling in the world.

Neon green

It stung like a violent wind that our memories depend on a faulty camera in our minds...

There are specific memories that I wish that I could capture and preserve perfectly, with out any trick of my imagination trying to embellish or lessen the moment.

Very early this morning, we sat side by side on a wet bench, barely under the cover of a tree across the path. I can hear the rain falling on the leaves, on the pavement, on his jeans. I can feel the cold drops on the back of my neck. I can taste the cigarette, smell the smoke. I want to savor every word he said, the feel of his head on my shoulder. Our feet side by side on the sidewalk. My hand on his on my leg. The song that he sang. I want it all, perfectly stored away.

I want to remember laying side by side on my bed, our feet on the ground, our hands over our own faces, not speaking.

I want to remember the feel of his heart beating through my shoulder as we sat on the couch, his head leaning heavily against mine, and his deep breathing as he slept. I want to remember the dread of his phone vibrating in his pocket indicating the cab was here to take him away for six long months.

I want to remember the heaviness of it, the impossible weight of goodbye.