These last few weeks I go places and look for a sign of you. Even if it isn’t you, just a memory would do. And today, the fragrance of your memory is heavy, deep, real. I can hear you in the engine of the car next to me. I can see you in kitchen of my home. I can smell you in the gentleman standing in front of me. I can taste you in my morning cup of tea. But, most importantly, I can feel you. I can feel your heart beat with mine. I can feel your arms wrap around me. I can feel your last act of love when you saved me. I can feel the stubble of your beard tickling my cheek. I can feel your fingers caressing my arm. I can feel all of you.
I keep thinking to myself how much longer until I don’t love you. How much more must I endure to forget about every wrinkle on your face when you smile? Or how deep your laugh is and how much your eyes twinkle when you do laugh? Or how beautiful and soothing the sound of your voice is when you sing? How much longer until I don’t miss you though? Until I don’t long to stand beside you in the kitchen learning something new? Until I don’t replay every mistake we’ve made and subsequently every beautiful make up that came after that?
I can still see you standing there not more than twenty feet from me. Our breaths rising and falling together. Neither of us able to move. Our eyes locked. And in that moment I could see us questioning ourselves, thinking about all the what ifs, all the regret, all the sorries. I could feel that cosmic need that pulls us together drawing at my heart strings. I could feel the flutter of my heart, the dancing in my stomach of seeing you so close. I could feel hot tears run down my eyes knowing the man that opened up the world for me was untouchable.
If there was any day that I could tell you this, I wish it to be today. Not that any of this makes sense. And it probably isn’t things I should share on your birthday. After all, who wants to remember on their birthday their once was can never be an is again? Who wants to hear the love you walked away from still wants to dance? I know you do too, just not in the way that I could give you. And that’s the issue, C. I’m mad at myself. I always thought that through it all, no matter what came our way love would be enough. My love would be enough. I’m mad at myself for believing that, for still believing that.
I only meant to tell you Happy Birthday this morning. Instead you have a bunch of words you’ll never read professing you will always have my love. And maybe that’s the best present I could give you today. Loving you even if you can’t accept it. Even when I can’t give it to you. Happy Birthday, my darling Lucas. I wish you the world.
To the moon and back. xoxo