I really wonder how you feel on these nights so alone

“if only you could see”

These memories taste so sweet.

Aug 24, 2014 || 12:28 AM || comment?

Those night time bike rides through quiet neighborhoods.

The conscious conversations between two souls.

Life and love and future endeavors.

The hill we rushed down as we picked up speed, and the tough climb back up the other side.

The breakfast you made, the eggs and toast, the cup of tea, and the tears that ran down my face because everything seemed so perfect and yet it still wasn't right.

The music that played as we danced on the wooden deck, minds oblivious to those around us and eyes catching glances at one another, and our feet, making sure we were staying in time.

The stars that fell out of the sky as we laid in the bed of the truck on a gravel road in the middle of the night, eyes looking in every direction, and collectively gasping as they lit up across the sky.

The beautiful voice singing along to the guitar that played as we sat on that metal bench, eating gelato, and feeling our souls inexplicably in sync with theirs.

Sometimes I wonder if I'm the only one that revisits these experiences, or is this something everyone does? Am I alone in my reminiscing or is there someone also thinking of them at the same time? There are triggers too.

Matchbox Twenty songs. Bike riding past certain streets. White cars. Silver trucks. They make me happy to remember them. For some of them, I just have to also remember to let them go....

VCR

Aug 20, 2014 || 2:52 AM || comment?

"What about that one?"

I did my best to follow her finger pointing into the vast sky. Warm pinks and vibrant oranges painted across the sky, colors only visible at dusk from the quickly setting sun. The clouds looked like cotton candy stretched out. I told her just as much. A sleepy smile stretched across her face.

"I can almost taste it," she said with eyes closed, pretending to pick it out of the sky and eat it. Head resting in my lap, her hair felt like satin as I ran it between my fingers. We were sitting alone in a field alongside a quiet road. I watched her for a moment longer before looking into the sky again. The pinks and oranges soon made way for the deeper blues and purples. The once playful clouds were now somber patches of gray hung in the sky. Nighttime always came too soon. Seconds turned into minutes turned into hours whenever I was with her.

Crickets and the occasionally passing car made the soundtrack to the bike ride back to her place. The passing headlights would create an aura about her that was best described as heavenly. I sighed as we neared her driveway. We dismounted our bikes and said a few words about the next day's plans before saying our goodbyes. I watched as she started walking towards her door, and I noticed her slight hesitation. She put down her kickstand, and rushed back to me. She quickly muttered about forgetting something, before lightly tugging on my shirt, pulling me down towards her, and her upward, into a kiss. I felt a warmth quickly creep into my cheeks, and myself losing balance of the bike at my side, just as the kiss ended. Her cheeks were just as flushed as she looked at me just a moment longer, before retreating inside with her bike. I rode home with thoughts of warm pinks, vibrant oranges, and hair like satin between my fingers.

Labels: fiction junction

Something different?

Aug 18, 2014 || 1:27 AM || comment?

Reaching for your fingertips is a little like trying to keep sand in the palm of one of your hands. The grains spill out between my fingers. Yours brush lightly against mine, but for some reason keep falling out of reach.

Is there something wrong with my hands? I take a good look, turning them over, running my eyes along the lines that make up the relief of my palms. Skin golden from long days spent in the sun. Two week old nail polish chipping away, revealing nails grown out a little too long. A sigh escapes my slightly parted lips.

I look up and you're gone again. You never stay too long. I think I can smell you on my pillow case. Hugging it tight against my chest, I bury my nose in my pillow and inhale deeply. Your scent is faint...or maybe my mind is playing tricks on me again.

I thought I saw you the other day, riding my bike past the café where we first met, but I knew it couldn't have been you because there was some other girl hanging on that man's arm. I tried calling you but you didn't answer. I didn't see you again until the next week, and that's when you told me you'd be leaving. Head tilted, I asked where you'd be going. You gave me a sad smile and the only word that came out was "away." The word echoed in my mind as I stood to reach for your hand, but your fingers slipped out of mine as you walked away, like grains of sand, and you never looked back.

Labels: fiction junction