KICKING THROUGH SLUSH
I think about you all the time.
Thought about you all last winter, kicking through slush in the parking lot under the yellow haze of the streetlights, shivering in the downy depths of my jacket.
Thought about you all through the summer, when sweat beaded and tan shadow filled the creases on our white-smeared faces.
Thought about you when I got off the bus and it rolled away groaningly, down the street, through the rain, leaving in its wake a greenish paste of wet mashed leaves on the pavement.
I thought about you on the days when all I got from you was a long look at the backside of your head, the smooth white of your warmup jacket.
I thought about you on the days when you'd talk to me, and smile, and I could pretend we had something, if not a friendship.
I thought about you when I was happy.
I thought about you when I was drowning in misery.
I thought a lot about the chanceness of us having met in the first place and of the randomness of the events that followed to put us where we are today.
And I realized, what happens from now doesn't matter.
Because what we've had is a miracle already.
You've let me go. I'm still holding on. I'm waiting.Always.
When I see you, I think you know this. I'd like a smile, a nod, nothing more.
But I won't ask anything. I just want to to know. I love you.
love letter collection
9:42 PM EST
Wednesday, December 4, 2011