here on this most romantic of days i thought to do something to bring you closer to me in your distant absence and so i drove down the roads we used to drive together during that leisurest of summers. i passed the mailboxes that separated the grouchy neighbors and i came up on those trees now a little sparse of leaves and then those street lights -- the ones that i knew would be off, and the ones i knew would flicker. and the parts of the road i knew to brake during if i didn't want to bite my tongue.
and there is nothing quite like that feeling,
except maybe...
having to whiff the warm scent of a thanksgiving pumpkin pie and then not being able to eat it.
or maybe being in line to that great play, letting someone elderly go in front of you, and then learning when you finally reached the front that they were sold out and that you'd missed it by just one ticket. and resolving never to do something nice again, especially to someone old.
or maybe like going on vacation to sicily, where it's known for the sunset, only to find that the dark, deep clouds had followed you there from your cubicle, and that your window faced another building anyway, where you could see another couple being happy.
a little bit the feeling to a child running barefoot along the wet grass in his pajamas pupils dilated with anticipation only to find that the ice cream man had forgotten to turn off his music once he'd run out of Nutzo bars.
so i guess there are a lot of things quite like my silly attempt to bring you closer to me in your distant absence.