The other day, my friend tried to set me up with a guy. Sort of. He showed up to lunch with us wearing my favorite shirt of Shawn's. Not just any old Target shirt, or something - a very specific t-shirt-sleeved button down with tiny beige flowers all over and those pearl-like buttons.
The next day, Facebook drew my attention to a memory; a picture of the ex, his ex, and me, all in an awkward row at thanksgiving nine years before present. Another of my mom holding their daughter as a baby, seven years back. Spooky.
I felt proud to go a few measly hours without thinking of him, and without feeling like something's missing. Usually like two or three is something to be proud of. I headed home tonight and thought about this being the life I live - 10 minutes to home from my favorite dive bar, out seeing some cute guy play in a band, then going home at nearly midnight, a little buzz on a 'school night'. All the while knowing, he is fast asleep hundreds of miles from reach. No buzz, no band, likely no thoughts of me, and for more than a few hours...
Often, I miss his head - of all things! I see pictures of him or us, and I just want to wrap my arms around his head, hold it to my chest, tousle his soft, yet wiry locks. And I miss his nose. Sometimes I'd run my index finger down its bridge, starting between his bushy brows and skipping off its end like a ski slope, landing on his top, then bottom lip. He'd just let me, not even a question asked.
I miss his smile. Though I didn't see it in all its unbridled glory too many times, when I did, it lit my heart on fire. His laugh! Oh, his laugh...
I miss his gaze. The one where I knew he was absolutely vexed by me, in that moment. It was accompanied by a soft smirk of astonishment. I'd kiss the apple of his cheek, just above the treeline that was his beard. It always seemed like the best place, wanton.
And I circle round and round, why it is no more. Why such torture and longing...why such deep fancy, mutually displaced by differing convictions.
And, of this, I'd tell him: "I guess this is what you get, for dating a writer."
