| Letters to M Looking For You 3/9/04 |
| �I feel as though I�m never going to see you again.� You laughed, and tossed your hair back as you smiled at me. �Of course you will! We�ll see each other in a couple of weeks, a month at most.� Logically I knew this was true, I mean, we already had it all planned out. I�d come back up in a couple of weeks, a pattern we�d repeat throughout the summer. But all the same, something inside of me wrenched as I tore myself away and got in my car. It was a four hour drive back home. I was about three hours in before I no longer had to forcibly stop myself from turning around and driving straight back to you. I never saw you again. I don�t ignore those kinds of feelings anymore. I never drove back up, you never came back down. The invisible, impenetrable wall separates us. I still look for you in every crowd I see, search for your face in every stranger�s I meet. But never, ever do I find you. It�s ten years later. I have a life, well-rounded, busy, fulfilling. A job I love, a home of my own that I�ve spent the last four years filling with trinkets and memories and pets. I have a small circle of close friends, and a larger circle of others. I�ve had plenty of relationships, some more serious than others, I almost got married once. But it�s not complete, it can�t be....because I�m still looking for you. Walking down a street, I still stop in my tracks when I catch a glimpse of silken brown hair done up in just that way with a head held in just such a position. Still, I turn, trying to see the face, see if it matches up with yours. Still, I feel the small catch of disappointment within my chest when it does not. It�s not rational, it simply is. So many years have passed by and I have come to the realization that I may live for the rest of my life looking for you. I will be happy, I will work and play and love....but I will not be whole. Because you have a piece of my soul that I left behind when I drove away from you that late spring morning. And just as you are, it is lost forever to me. Letters Home |