Night is a freeze frame amplification of the desires, the longings, the hopes you’ve let go into the wind, the loves you still hold close to your heart.
You remember her in a flower print dress, blowing kisses in your direction, the lack of makeup accentuating what you always saw- her natural beauty.
She’s standing there, her body hugging her dress- and especially then- when you were walking away from her for good, you felt your heart skip a beat for her.
Now, in the cowardness of self reflection, you can think to the good times. You can almost pretend that your stupid jokes made her smile.
But you know better than that.
You know that no matter how you wrestled words into different meanings- be they in a game of scrabble or in word play- the words you offered her never had the tenderness of the love she gave to you.
You know that you could wrestle a million words- and they would have little effect on how she felt for you. Because you know that a million words were always too much and too little between you two.
And that’s when you feel it.
The pain of remembering. The pain of forgetting. The pain of loving so close to your heart that it electrifies and beats it.
The joy of a heart that beats so completely, so in tune with with the outer world, but so on it’s own time, that all synchrony is only yours and hers.