009 - meandering along (reprise)
dear beloved,
today, i stood on the side of a windy street in a gentrified-to-hell neighbourhood that repulses me and i felt the cold and i remembered a song and i missed you.
i say this a lot, of course, i miss every part of you in every moment we spend apart, as i will until the day this part of me dies. but this felt different. it felt as if the music and the wind were wrapping around me, embracing me. like you were embracing me, like the way you did on that cold, shitty street, the night i started to fall in love with you. when i was annoyed and too cold and wanted to leave and you held me for a second longer than i needed, just to make sure i was okay. when we were sprinting through the horrible suburban streets together on a stupid errand. when we were sitting slightly too close to each other, doing some pointless task on the computer.
it almost makes me laugh how easily these moments can crystallise in my mind, how quickly these pebbles can stack up until suddenly they've dammed the river again. how just as easily as i can write off a moment in my memory as insignificant, a gust of wind can bring it right back to me.
i'm at home again now, warm, with the memory of the feeling slowly fading from my mind. maybe that's okay. maybe i can have faith that even though they're not in the forefront of my mind, the pebbles still lie there, just below the surface, lining the riverbed. i can have faith that when the right current comes along, there'll be nothing to stop them coming back out and floating into the stream again.
~