...it's there. somewhere in the back of my mind. usually when I'm at my most tired - not sleepy tired - "run-around" tired. those times when you feel like you've been just running for weeks and weekends on end. dates. dinners. movies. partying. things to do, so much to do. suddenly you catch a glimpse of your reflection in a big store window and when you see yourself - you think "what is he running from?"
but then you know. he's running from you. he's being running from you since the day those words fell from his lips and the door between you was closed. when I'm really tired - like this - it's the only time you get back in. a memory of laughing together at something. of 'pillow talk'. of holding your hand. and for that moment I let go of the hatred and a sadness takes place as I miss you. miss being known by you.
i had my first 'sleep-over' - it wasn't planned or organized - it just kinda went that way. and it was nice and odd at the same time. how perfect to have the first sleep-over not even be in my bed - but me and he in the spare room on an air-matress, while the house guest slept peacefully in my bed. the bed you once shared with me. when i rolled over in to him and pulled him closer - he slept softly. larger, stronger - it seemed odd. he could protect himself. my arms around him were merely comforting. we would misunderstand each others movements, yet then fall in to step - waking, then kissing the others rising back or resting forehead - then falling back asleep.
and when the sun asked not to be ignored and fell more abundantly from around the window shades - he and I woke to each other. and you in that moment weren't there.