i was in love once . . . i was 18 when we met and hadn't yet put the pieces together on my sexuality. i knew her for four years, give or take. i was so completely mad about this girl - and i kept thinking that my strange attachment to her must be somehow unhealthy b/c you just aren't supposed to be so attached to another woman, blah, blah, blah . . . my inability to label that for what it was lead to some very destructive behavior on my part. but that isn't what i want to talk about . . . what occurs to me now is that i was so in love with her - really, truly in love with her. i've never known anything since that was that innocent or that pure - i was in love with her and although the circumstances made it impossible, my feelings for her standing alone were uncomplicated - but they lead me into a bad place that was complicated.

and there isn't one single day - not one - that i don't think about her. there hasn't been since the last time i spoke to her - nine years ago. nine years . . . and maybe part of that is b/c of the aforementioned destructive behavior that i engaged in that was inevitably wrapped up with her - i suppose everyone has a time period in their life that they are most ashamed of, at least, that's what i tell myself - although, i don't ever speak of this, not even with martha - but i don't think that's the only reason i think about her everyday - i think i would even if she wasn't connected to that.

nine years and i still remember everything about her in intricate detail. i remember her laugh and even her cry, i remember the very first time i saw her and i remember the very last time i spoke to her, i remember her voice, i remember her touch, i remember watching her struggle and i remember her faults. i remember the things that endeared people to her and i remember the things she despised in people - i remember the conspiratorial twinkle in her eye when she was about to either share a piece of gossip or crack a joke, possibly at someone's expense - although never in a mean spirited way. i remember being startled once by her insightfulness and wondering if perhaps i had never given her enough credit. i remember how moody she was and i remember becoming able to read her moods more easily than anyone. i remember what it felt like to be in her presence, to be near her, and how i felt even if it was just for a moment, to be the center of her world. nine years and i still have to stop myself right now from recalling details b/c my eyes are getting watery and i don't cry at work.

nine years and i wonder if anyone will ever live up to her standards or the her i've held onto in my head. i still miss her - after all this time, i can still physically feel how much i miss her. i still wonder what she would think about the latest movie i just saw or the book i just read or about anything new i experience or, more importantly of the choices i've made and the woman i've become, which is a far cry from who i was when i met her . . . if she would be proud of me . . . nine years and i'm still not free of her memory and i wonder if i will ever be and what it will mean if i am.

<< & >>