I've been trying to phone you;
for a few months now actually.
I just want to tell you that I miss you
and that sometimes the whole sky reminds me of you.

You're always traveling to new places,
your inability to sit still for more than four seconds
is both your gift and your curse.
I never know where you might decide to rest your head.
(if you even feel inclined to sleep at all)
I envy that about you.

We once very drunkenly shared
a kiss in the summer rain,
in the middle of a street, in Brooklyn.
(It's one of my most favorite memories)
We laughed so hard and hailed a cab
and you told me that you one day hoped
to love a woman as much as you love New York.
You have such a way of putting your poetic thoughts
into beautiful prose.

Last I heard you were in Amsterdam.
I can see you now...
Smoking Marijuana, telling clever jokes
that no one will understand,
preaching about the constellations or maybe
your favorite albums;
which of course should be listened to
through the crackles of dusty vinyl
and eating ONLY the best of food in tiny cafes.

I hope you are well my friend, my thoughts are with you
along with a hope that another strong wind will ******* your way again soon.

Sometimes I purposely lock stares with strangers
for a little longer than it is comfortable to do so.

I'm not sure why I do it...
Maybe it's a fear of being unmemorable
or maybe just feeling that awkwardness is a reminder
that I am still alive,
that they're still alive,
that we are still alive together.

It's true,
there is a loneliness so vast that lingers over us
that it might as well be the sky
and as heavy as an anchor weighing us down like ships in the sea
but it's the knowing that we still need each other
that makes that loneliness beautiful.

Not one man is an island,
this loneliness makes us alike
and eventually brings us together.

There is something so beautiful about the human spirit,
let it not be denied.
Our lives, full of giant disappointments
wars, and fears but we continue moving forward
SOLEY for those rare and short lived moments of happiness.

I find that to be incredibly empowering and comforting.

On a Summer night in possibly the sketchiest park in town
With a tall can of cheap beer and two already empty bottles of surprisingly cheaper wine,
We laid in the grass and admired the spinning sky.

We couldn't see the stars but we settled for the moon

I looked over at you and
you knew I was looking but pretended to not notice
you tried your best to look handsome

You are always so handsome

You turned to me and asked, "do you ever write about me in that little black diary you always carry around?"
I laughed out loud and honestly responded "no, not yet."
With a playfully offended or frustrated tone you said "What's a boy gotta do to get into that little black book of yours?!"

it was probably my second or third most favorite night in the history of ever
so here it is, a page in my little black book for you Mr.

Mrs. Boon, she is 102, she will be 103 next February.
She told me that when she was young a prophet told her she would
live to be 144
"104!" My mother jokingly corrected her.
My mother had heard this story many times before, she was her caregiver.
Mrs. Boon said "same difference they're both way too long."
I liked her she was sassy.

She said "My dear, never marry."
That was funny because I had an argument with my mother that morning
about that very subject,
my mom wants me to marry a clean cut catholic boy and
I want to...well...be alone and travel the world and
kiss handsome men with thick accents.

Mrs Boon complained about all her diminishing abilities and senses,
"I can't see, I can't hear, I can't think, I can't stand for too long! I don't know why the lord doesn't take me" she cried.
All I could think was that I was only 21 and felt exactly the same way.

She looked at me before we left and very sincerely asked,
"will you visit me again, I know I could get better if I had a good spirit like yours around"
I smiled and softly graced her hand that was swollen from the ivy.

I knew I could never see her again she reminded me of my mortality.
And that reminder weighed heavy like a rock on my chest

It was the reminder that most of us will end up alone
breathing air from a tank and watching
re-runs we recorded in previous years of The Price is Right.

While browsing through one of your fancy medical magazines
I read an article that stated that
most of us will die due to a heart related issue.

You tried to grab the magazine out of my hand
before I turned this into discussion on existentialism.
(too late)

"Ha!" I couldn't help but laugh...

"The mind is the real killer,
we all know that!" I exclaimed.

"The rejections, the let downs,
the mistakes, the loses, our own self esteem,
our unaccomplished dreams,
replaying over and over and over and over in our heads;
eating away at our sanity.
Now that's what gets us."

You sighed dramatically as I continued to ramble on...

"In fact you're lucky if your heart dies out before your mind does;
But If you're like most you'll live life like a zombie
with a heart that beats like a champion."

At this point your eyes had already glossed over, you were probably thinking about ice cream or the weather but I carried on...

"We think therefor we are.
In our miserable little thoughts we will find both our lives and our deaths."

You stood up and headed for the kitchen to serve yourself a giant bowl of ice cream.
I knew you were thinking about ice cream the whole time.

I pass the places we were
one year ago today
not purposely,
it's just that my Gods seem
to have an ill sense of humor.

Walking slowly, numbly, dreamlessly around
a blinking city
that refuses to belong to me
ever again.

With every step kicking up clouds of dirt
in form of awkward memories
from not too long ago
that feel like a hazy far away dream.
it is easier to pretend they were merely that.
Reality is much harder to accept.

Bright Cakes with soft candle light
that graced your brow.
And I find myself hoping and wishing
I didn't know that you were doing so well,

if so...I'd be able to lie to myself
and imagine that you think of me
a little sometimes.

I hope you found what you wanted,
what you relentlessly worked so hard for.

Happy Birthday.