i met the love of my life at age 19, he was 18. i've come to realize this now at the age of 39...on the cusp of 40...that wonderous(?)age...the age when, i believe, i will begin to feel comfortable in my skin, to be who i am without apologies or regrets.

i'm in awe that while i have not seen nor heard from this person for many many years, the rush of emotions...is still there, a dark looming wave held in freezeframe, but still pulsating at the thought...

when i remember, i feel...things i didn't feel with anyone else.
and this is all i have of this situation.
my memories, my feelings. and nothing more.

things i'd like to ask him if i could?
-what music are you listening to?
-what have you read lately?
-what do you think about this war?
-are you still writing?

i hope there is one moment in my future when i get to ask these questions...
even if i'm 80.
~~~

tucked in a corner in a lowlit room, a man and a woman sit silently, hands on the table, Sake cups in between...

the city's alight
with lovers and lies
bright blue eyes.
the city is bright,
brighter than day tonight
surrender...