| Letters to M Looking For You 3/9/04 |
| “I feel as though I’m never going to see you again.” You laughed, and tossed your hair back as you smiled at me. “Of course you will! We’ll see each other in a couple of weeks, a month at most.” Logically I knew this was true, I mean, we already had it all planned out. I’d come back up in a couple of weeks, a pattern we’d repeat throughout the summer. But all the same, something inside of me wrenched as I tore myself away and got in my car. It was a four hour drive back home. I was about three hours in before I no longer had to forcibly stop myself from turning around and driving straight back to you. I never saw you again. I don’t ignore those kinds of feelings anymore. I never drove back up, you never came back down. The invisible, impenetrable wall separates us. I still look for you in every crowd I see, search for your face in every stranger’s I meet. But never, ever do I find you. It’s ten years later. I have a life, well-rounded, busy, fulfilling. A job I love, a home of my own that I’ve spent the last four years filling with trinkets and memories and pets. I have a small circle of close friends, and a larger circle of others. I’ve had plenty of relationships, some more serious than others, I almost got married once. But it’s not complete, it can’t be....because I’m still looking for you. Walking down a street, I still stop in my tracks when I catch a glimpse of silken brown hair done up in just that way with a head held in just such a position. Still, I turn, trying to see the face, see if it matches up with yours. Still, I feel the small catch of disappointment within my chest when it does not. It’s not rational, it simply is. So many years have passed by and I have come to the realization that I may live for the rest of my life looking for you. I will be happy, I will work and play and love....but I will not be whole. Because you have a piece of my soul that I left behind when I drove away from you that late spring morning. And just as you are, it is lost forever to me. Letters Home |