I gaze out the tiny window that perpetuates the moon’s glimmer like a dewy morning as the sun rises slowly at dawn. You called it God’s thumbnail as we would ruminate on the joys of the life we’ve built together.
I got sidetracked by the onslaught of memories that cascaded into my mind. In an ideal world, intrusions such as this wouldn’t protrude into the here and now. My mind is made up. I can’t pretend any longer. I don’t want to do this anymore. I want to jump in the car, slam the door, and let the engine roar. Let the sound of the exhaust drown out all the noise. The clatter that fills the space between what is and what once was.
It’s not that easy, though. The emotions take over, and the smell sends me into an all too well-known state of love and fury. The chaos is a welcomed distraction from the ideology that change is unattainable. I turn the ignition, and it sends me to one of our favorite times. We would road trip to nowhere just to see where we end up. Windows down as we sang every song that would blast from the speakers. In an instant, we would be silently navigating the turns blissfully, taking in the sights and being thankful for the presence of one another. Being together was all we needed to be joyful and experience all our firsts and never our last. I hear the clanking of the engine turning. The gas ignites in the cylinder walls, and the engine comes to life.
You looked like no one I’d ever seen. Your eyes told the story of your one true love. The one you’ve longed for and the radiant satisfaction in being home as you called it. We were hand in hand, looking deep into one another as we proclaimed our love. Your smile was the truest smile I’d ever known.
This ride is going to clear my mind, and maybe I’ll finally be able to rest. Damn, I forgot my cigarettes in the house. I breach the doorway, and I see you in the kitchen packing your Marlboro Black shorts. Your hair blocks your face as you smack the box against the countertop. One smack, two smack, hey baby I hear you say as you notice me standing there. Why are you staring at me? You said as you continued to smack the pack of Marlboro’s on the counter. I replied that I was not staring, I was admiring. I know you hated when I did that, just as I know you are not here, now.
Why do I self-indulge in these moments that have no meaning or place in my life anymore? I find my pack of cigarettes and belatedly exit once more.
How did I get here? I left the door ajar when I went back into the house. I can hear the door chime singing its benevolent tune as I approach the door. Standing there with the door in hand, I watch you blissfully swing your purse in as you sit down. I asked you if you were all in, I didn’t want to strike you with the door as I closed it. As I go around the front of the car, I catch your stare and our eyes lock. The radiant glow that is displayed by your eyes is captivating to my core. As I enter the car I’m brought back to a place that is a consistent reminder that you’re not here anymore.
How did I get here? That question has egregious complications that solidify the loneliness that extenuates the cause and effect of all that I am.
The Wandering-Mind 