i am listening to some music right now that makes me think of you. it’s not a situation we were in and this was playing, it’s just the artist, who you probably wouldn’t know, has a way of saying things just how i think them. songs about great loss, pain, love.
they say “idle hands are the devil’s workshop.” well, i find things to do, writing you is one. but my take on that saying is more or less idle minds are the devils workshop. this is because every time i have a moment to stop, think, and relax, you come to mind. when i stay busy i don’t. sitting here, with nothing to do but listen to music, each aspect of you/us comes back to me. so i flip open my wallet, where, your once crumpled, photograph now rests, and look at how happy we were.
i could ask myself what happened, but i did that, and it only caused more tears. i had to cry, because i knew i drove you away with my drinking. i want you to know i’ve been seeing someone that will help me with that. sometimes i thank you. i needed a wake up. you had every right to leave me.
i’m glad you’re happy in maine. i hope that being there can make you as happy as you made me. it’s still cold here in seattle, the snow is not going to come, though the sky looks like it’s about to dump something on us.
the other day i ran into dan and betty, they are going to have a baby in october, betty was glowing. i could tell they tried to avoid bringing you up, i’m sure they would have said hello, but they were afraid to talk about you with me.
i would come out just to see you dancing freely by the sunset. like the sun you shone brightly. we spent hours by the curbside. telling stories under street lights, how your words would amaze me. now those days are gone, slowly they slipped away. now those days are gone, slowly. i still go out by the old house, where i met you after summer. where are you now? you’re with another. i am sitting by the curbside, where we’d hang out under street lights. how those times still are with me. now those days are gone, slowly slipped away. now those days are gone, slowly.
i miss you, i won’t lie. i cry myself to sleep. i don’t know if it’s because i miss you, or because i messed up. i think it might be a mixture of both. i’m just glad it didn’t end in a big mess. well, i think i’m done.
adam.
Archived source: Wayback Machine capture
