I always loved a breezy day combined with sunshine; add you and life was good. My heart was yours at thirteen. You, a fourteen year old musician. A rock star to my young mind. Stolen kisses. Brightness shone in your dark eyes. Such newness.
Years later, after other loves, children, and friends; I let my secret slip. You said, “What? Wait a minute, back up a second…you love me? Still?” Yes. The torch lit long ago, alive for all the years, as friend, as a love that never quite got started. And you wouldn’t let me back out of it. Said you shared those feelings. And so we had moonlight instead of sunshine, the ocean breezes playing with my hair, whipping strands across my cheek. Your hand coming up to graze my skin, knuckles brushing my lips, pushing the strands away to replace them with your lips. The crisp starlit nights shared with you I count amongst the best. The anticipation of being with you…
And Now? Now, I’m trying to heal from feeling your friendship gone walkabout, without me. You took yourself away, love; blocked me out. Left. And you don’t appear to be coming back. I felt so happy when you finally took my hand and lead me down the path to your heart. That’s why it hurt so much to be pushed away. I felt embarrassed, mortified, confused. Me almost fifty. You pushing fifty one. You’d think we’d be able to get this love thing right for once before were both pushing daisies.
I felt with you caring for me, plus the love of kids, and friends, life couldn’t be any better. I’ve always felt we were meant to be, and with such passion, the seed planted, sure it takes nurturing to grow, as does any living organism; but it’s us. I thought we could make it. I had such faith in you, S. Your pulling away really shook me. Today the winds still send wisps of hair to caress my cheeks, and across my lips. I need to stop wondering if you will ever be there to stroke away the tears that wet those strands and my eyelashes. Stop the idea that you will come, tip my face to the stars, kiss me and hold me tighter when I tremble, overwhelmed in the face of the love of years. I might talk a lot, but for a woman of my years and experience, to write that the feeling of goodbye is the worst thing I’ve ever experienced…that is saying something. I miss my friend and my love.