You Know My Whole World, Your Friends Don’t Know My Name

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Distant glances, admiration at first sight. Winter blues, but the butterflies flutter like it’s Spring.

Rainy nights, parking in the visitor’s spot. I realized too late that I was only ever just visiting. Arcade dates, winning prizes. I thought I won more than a stuffed toy that weekend.

Movie theatre soda, two mouths. Your nervous foot tapping habit, my calm hand.

Four sets of sparkling blue eyes, four sets of bashful, vibrant red cheeks on ivory faces. Timid first “Hellos” and timid last “Goodbyes” after a shuffled playlist in the dark.

Screaming out windows on back city streets, flushed cheeks, feeling infinite. Countless plaid shirts and scruffy smiles. Country boy grins, snorting laughter. Gentlemen hands, respectful gestures. Snowstorm driving, spring fling. Piggyback rides on sidewalks, feeling supported.

Eternal sunshine of the spotless mind, tattooed numbers on hearts. Time is the only true eraser yet, even time can’t seem to Windex wipe the memories that seep out of wounds that never healed.

Christmas shopping, not for each other. Dreaming of forever, not having tomorrow. You know my whole world, your friends don’t know my name. Scattered replies, one-word answers. I asked you, “Why?” But I never got closure.

Same page in different novels, riding the same waves in different oceans. How closely I confused the two. How clearer things would be with different eyes.

They say you don’t know what you’ve got until it’s gone. Did that ever sing true for you?

Lessons learned much later. It wasn’t you so much as the magic that was present that I remember. It wasn’t you so much as the effortless chemistry that I miss.

Now we’re strangers, who once shared a chapter in a past life.

And that’s okay, it’s okay.