Letters from J

Memory

I write this while intoxicated from three bottles of 2012 reds – I don't even remember if I drank a cab or merlot. But I remember you.

I remember your eyes when I glanced your way; it was like a daydream movie scene and from that moment there was no breaking free.

I remember your arms around me, and my arms around you. It felt like home. It lingered and it lingers still.

I remember when you wanted to talk – just the two of us – about mundane things. I wasn't even asking.

I remember when you talked about things you like, stuff you do, and places you wanted to go. You even asked me to come with.

I remember the morning after; I was sober from the alcohol but I was drunk of the previous night's memory.

I remember how you teased me with your smile, gave me the playful looks, and left me with this feeling of an indefinable something.

The sad part is.

Only I, remember you.

J