I will find you

You had an aura of authority about you. I was new to the job and pathetically desperate to be liked; my simpering and smiling did absolutely nothing to impress you. In fact, you gazed at me with deliberate apathy on your impassive face. I think somewhere deep down I knew you were partially putting me on, but I suppose I was genuinely annoying as well.

I got to know you a bit better. We went out drinking with coworkers, as coworkers, my capacity for liquor and effusive cynicism impressed you (my smile probably didn’t hurt, either). We stayed out late with the gang, we sang karaoke, we smoked and drank the nights away.

You invited me to your home one holiday, you showed me your bedroom. I was impressed by it all, and awestruck by the beauty of your heart. I found you fascinating and attractive, and I found myself wanting to take you in to my arms and kiss you forcibly until you kissed back. I invited you to my home as well and gazed longingly at the bed. We were just friends, after all, just coworkers. But I found the heat rising to my face with you standing in my bedroom as I gave you the grand tour.

You were a sensitive soul. You wanted to go skinny dipping, to go walking in the night to find the light at the top of the tower, to drive far and go stargazing, to walk barefoot fearlessly in the city. You wrapped crystals and had a windchime in your car. Your aura was green, and I knew it, but I didn’t want to say so for fear of sounding stupid.

I moved a hundred miles away, essentially severing all ties with that place, including you.

We never spoke of the softer, deeper things, and I regret it. I miss you. I feel like I found a kindred spirit in you and lost it cruelly, but I think you had that effect on many people. I think maybe I wasn’t special to you, and that’s why I never told you how I felt.

That part of my life is over now. I hope you’re well, and I hope you’re happy, I hope you learned to fly. I’ll most likely never see you or speak to you again (I hope I’m wrong), but I have determined that I will find you in the next life and love you fiercely as I couldn’t in the last.


Tell It Like It Is

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