Elysium

The other night at the bar I ran into a friend of a friend, someone I haven’t seen for a very long time, a forgotten face from a distant past which races closer and closer each day - and I approach this past with determination, hands locked tightly on the steering wheel, eyes forward, unable or unwilling to move.

We spoke of life, it’s ups and downs. Small talk. Then she brought up you.

I haven’t seen you in over 5 years. I sternly thought I would never see you again, or speak of you even, until perhaps the day we die - when we are reunited…. and there she was telling me you never moved on. You waited. You ask about me often, evidently, with a great sadness, and a dash of hope, in your voice.

I spoke to this friend about you.

The booze coaxed words out of me I normally only reserve for the anonymous written page. I told her things, not much, but “just enough.” How I miss you. How I hope you are doing well and that you are happy. Just enough but not as much as I certainly could have. We exchanged numbers, another strategic move on my part, and I was sure to give her a ring several days later… “just calling to say hi.”

I close my eyes and I see you. When I run, and the runner’s high creeps over me in a cold shiver I see your face. I smell your hair. I long for your smile. I feel your breath on my neck. I have clothes I swear I can still smell you in.

I do not know if things could be the same between us... or if I am setting myself up for failure or disappointment. Reunited or perhaps ruination, whatever this may be, it steadily approaches.

In front of me I see a barren land. In the far-off distance stands a crumbling, ancient wall. And the whispers I hear, that I have always heard, grow louder.