I often find myself telling my hardest moments as if they were stories. If I fill in enough of the details, if I paint a vivid enough picture that I can make you actually think you were there – maybe I can paint myself out of it too, disown the thoughts involved. Does it still count as speaking my truth if I feel the need to change a name or two? What about when I’m picking the perspective you see? Sometimes I want to deflect ownership of these memories but the truth is, each one of them was me.
CRASH
Normally at this point in the year if I were outside like this, the way the snow sparkles in the moonlight as if it were crusted with diamonds, would be the most captivating sight. Right now, though, the glitter covering the ground couldn’t even come close to touching the way your mouth drew my attention to it. I’ve never seen confidence like the smirk you wear when you know you’ve got me and oh boy, have you got me.
My gaze hasn’t broken from you once since the moment you shut the basement door behind us all the way to my hand reaching down and buckling my seatbelt in the car beside you.
“Hi, Madeline”, smirk.
I see you’ve noticed and my favorite thing about you is that when you catch me, I never feel like I have to play it cool.
“Hi Isaac”, breathy – not because it’s cold but because you stole it.
“Fuck, it’s cold”, smile, reach to turn on the heat. The next knob touched is for music. Christmas. Ugh, why?
I didn’t mean to let out that groan, but I detest Christmas music. I catch the glance you throw my way and with the way your eyes pull at the corners, I know that you picked up on the groan and are smiling before I even see your lips.
My groan turns giggle as you crank the volume, tap your hands on the steering wheel, and belt jingles like there is no tomorrow. What a dad. If this is Christmas music, I can get on board.
Whatever cold was left in the air turned as warm as that look you’re giving me. I want to tell you I love you but you’ve grown so accustomed to me not saying it that I feel trapped by expectation.
Peak experience – all at once my vision narrows and I desperately wish there would be no tomorrow. The tap-tapping of your hands on the wheel pulls my attention and I hurry up to pull it right back before I panic and pull the wheel instead. That wall beside us is looking mighty nice right now, I’d love to get a close-up.
Every part of me thinks this would be the perfect closing scene to this film. At least they went in a happy moment. I think of the moments that would follow and they pull me back to reality just in time, or a moment too soon, I’m still not sure which.
Maybe moments like this are the very reason that every time that fall turns to winter and the air gets cool and crisp, you creep into my mind. Maybe moments like this are the reason that I still can’t pass that wall without the rate of my heart increasing.
Much love, until next time.
Madeline May I... 