I can’t remember when I took my last breath of fresh air. Or the moment that the crickets stopped chirping. The morning that the sun rose without a rooster’s crow.
I can still see the tadpoles we’d catch. The murky water we’d wade in as the adolescent amphibians circles our legs.
Do you remember the time you reached out too far? Losing your balance, you twisted towards me in desperation. Your hands thrown in the air in a half-witted attempt to right your misstep, I know you’d fall. Yet how couldn’t I try?
I took your contorted body into my arms, trying to hold your weight against mine. Gravity had its own agenda. As the forces of nature brought us down upon the muddy water, the pond took us as its captives.
Surrendering to the pull I could not resist and letting chills run down my spine, the cold water chilled my eyes as I spent that moment looking at you. Laying there for a second longer than I would ever admit, with you just bubbles away and my arms enwrapped around yours, I smiled softer than I knew for my age.
However, captured you never remain. With you pulling us up, we gasped for air as the world once again became expansive and open. You looked at me, it was the first time I wanted to kiss you.
You erupted in beautiful laughter, and so I followed. It’s strange how we believe there are better days to come. That the movies of romance and love will also be our path. That heartbreak is only temporary as a greater reward awaits.
Maybe they do have some truth to them. Those stories we tell ourselves. And maybe the movies only tell stories worth telling. Maybe mine is simply not worth being heard.
I live in Seattle now. The rent isn’t cheap. I have a dog. Dallas, I call him. I last saw you two years ago. Down by the stream, that led to our pond. Our fountain of isolation. I sat and stared as the memories came back. The moments of ease we had, and the triumphs of that we caught. And then there you were. Just over the hill, on the far side, I felt your soul before I could recognize it. I stood, I really was going to run to you. Take your hands and ask the questions that I dreamed of you answering. But with my first step came my last. Over that hill, I saw another. Running with its half-grown legs, you turned and hoisted your daughter into the air. Bringing her up to the sunlight and back down into a cradle, you held her gaze with only love in mind. You looked to her, and then by your side, he too arrived. Of course he was there. Now holding you both. I watched you look up, into his beautiful hazel eyes. You held his gaze a second longer than you would ever admit.
I saw you, you saw him.