Once in a While….

7 Jul

I miss you.

I could talk to you.

I could see you smile.

I could…once in awhile.

My Badly Cooked Keilbasa

13 Jun

I had high hopes when I chose it over all others on the menu. I was tapping my fingers on the table, anticipating the glorious moment. I thoughtfully considered not ruining its subtle flavor profile by not letting it swim in tabasco sauce ( my natural tendency for all savory food ).

The moment came. I eat with my eyes too. To my horror, my Keilbasa…it looked like it’s been murdered on the flat top. Mishapen, overly sliced, severely overcooked with ends burnt unnecessarily ( this is not texas or kansas bbq for pete’s sake). Unappetizing is a kind statement. There it was sitting beside a half-runny egg. I am quite sure the server saw my displeasure.

Yes, I wanted to tell you about a supposed interesting food moment at my station that but  it’s become an epic failure. I wanted for you to feel how I feel whenever I am putting something edibly lovely in my mouth. Perhaps you’re the only person who notices and tells me (actually) how my eyes grow big in wonder, in happiness and satisfaction with that thing I am relatively passionate about- food. I got robbed of that suppose glorious moment.

I’ve read somewhere and I’ve heard people say that it’s the little things about a person that makes us remember them. I suppose it’s true. This is not to say, the big gestures are forgettable. These days, it’s those little one liners you said before that makes me remember.  It’s those quips you make that tells me it’s okay to flood  you with my overflowing negative observations. Is it a small thing you do? Perhaps so. perhaps not but yes I remember. It’s not as if I’m trying to forget you. There’s no incentive to do that because  if I would, I  would be  a greek bearing gift unto myself.

I have told you…perhaps- that you will always be that someone I will not forget, and whose existence in my life is a pleasant one. A very pleasant one despite it causing or costing bitterness and hurt. You amaze me…so much.

You have something…many somethings in fact that set you apart from the many.  You’re patient with my complaints, except now, for this one, you haven’t HEARD  my animated tirades on the disservice to my  keilbasa.

Doodling

9 Jun

I felt the urge to doodle again…your name again.

I thought I should give it to you…then again, maybe I shouldn’t.

I thought you should keep a clearer  cover photo of your doodled name…then again maybe you like the one displayed now just fine.

Remembering

2 Jun

I was swamped so I took a walk. An aimless one.

My feet brought me to a place where we first met. The first during your last visit.

I sat alone not in the same table we had.  I smiled while shaking my head.

Across the street I can see the bakeshop where you got me two heavenly sweets.

The sweets you held for hours to hand to me. 

I remember the details. When in the brink of memories rushing and my eyes

fighting to close so I get lost in the moment, I fight them with greater strength.

I cannot remember too much or too often.

This Habit

28 May

Yes, I still keep ogling you.

I do, I do, I do….

 

Sitting Still

21 May

It still sits right in front of me.

All withered, petals and leaves

They’ve turned from deep red to a dry reddish black

and deep olive brown.

The makeshift vase, a clear bottle of guava juice

half-filled with water, still clear.

A couple leaves submerged, and they are vibrant green.

Lifeless at first glance, but beneath the life-giving water

is a fight to survive.

The logical thing to do is to dispose it. Something inside me fights it.

Fights to let it sit there for a little more time.

Sit there, still, in front of me.

A Fraction for You

15 May

There’s still a part of my emotional brain that loves you, that bleeds for you.

In that same part, I still miss you. I still get hurt because and for you.

I have stopped pretending I can undo it. It’s there to stay. If it’s to stay for as long as I live, I’d be glad.If it doesn’t, I am glad it did for such a long period in my life.