Monday, January 7, 2013

You Could Be Happy



You could be happy, but I don’t know.  Chances are I will never know.  Sad for a moment my heart warms when I think of your blue eyes, your freckles, your round face and your black hair.  Head cocked to the side you still exist in a black and white photo smile aglow and surrounded by dried flowers under cellophane in a photo album of those gone but still loved.

Imagining my life without you is impossible.  You freed me.  Your refusal to accept boundaries or convention provided me one of the keys to what I have become.  Together we walked down the guided path through teenage sunshine into the start of the thickets that mark life on our own.  That point, the one where you have to make the choice as to whether to head overland or take the coast road, it was there we parted.  You chose one route and I the other.  We promised to write, we promised to call, and we promised a love and friendship forever.  It has been twenty five years now (at least) since we talked.  You could be happy.  I hope so.

The tea kettle is starting to whistle.  The night is cold enough and there is dampness to the air.  Solo piano music plays in the background, the pianist pounding the keys and sighing. In a flash I am in a room far too small to contain my life.  Pulling on a coat that will not keep me warm I must walk agitatedly out in the night air.  In the darkness I stare up at eternity.  You could be happy. Oh how I very much hope so.

No comments: