I remember when...--Andrew

I remember when I met you.

There’s a certain beauty to how much of our emotions we can’t put into words. The things we’ve wanted to say. Opportunities that change our paths forever depending on whether or not that single step was taken in a million different directions. The fact that lives intertwine and not forever, just brief moments that appear and disappear as the world drones on.

So much noise.

 So many people.

And then there’s you.

It’s quiet now.

Our single moment could’ve lasted a lifetime, that is until that server rammed half his tray of champagne glasses into my chest. You rushed over like an old friend. The smile on your face seemed so genuine and familiar. A flurry of responses rushed through my head and all I could muster was a measly “Thanks”. I thought so hard about it.

Had we met before? No. Impossible. I’d only seen you sit across the room at Lenno’s and order the same medium cup of Pike’s roast every other Sunday. Sorry they didn’t have the scones last time. No one told you how dry the muffins tended to be either. You were always working and that crease I love would form on your brow as it always has when you focus. The bean grinder never failed to remind me that time was still running. Conversations and keyboard clicks filled the space again.

So much noise.

So many people.

But there you were.

It’s quiet now.

The screaming monitor beeps woke me up again like an alarm clock. They weren’t mine, but the howling and sobbing in the adjacent room told me that someone’s clock ran out.

I’ve never liked these situations. Everything is so clean and artificial. Rooms like these are made for holding life until it flourishes or withers. You don’t know where I’m headed. I know where you’re headed. You left only a while ago for the hotel room. I hope the sheets aren’t too brittle. I know I’m missing ours back at home. For once in my life time without you seems unbearably slower than when you're actually around. My monitor just joined the chorus of sincerity in my head. They’ve all said their gooodbye’s and brought their displays of sympathy. But not you. You told me, “I’ll see you in the morning,” and your sweet smile warmed me as much as the kiss you planted on my forehead. The monitor contends with those words.

So much noise.

So much noise.

Sleep well, sweetheart.

It’s quiet now.