As I listen to this song, over and over again, memories of her fill my heart. Joy and sorrow join their hands in a dance of memories long turned to ashes Or are they?
I remember the first day we met. You were so chaste, so beautiful. A blonde, blue-eyed angel with a pair of strange glasses that made you look so sweet in my eyes. When we parted ways I even attempted to give you a kiss. You turned away quickly, taking advantage of the subway's sudden arrival.
The memories roll on with me inviting you and some common friends, to dinner. I got the wrong wine for some white sauce pasta, but you seemed to enjoy that particular vintage a bit too much. I remember you, getting pretty smashed after said dinner. Fun times must I add for you were smiling and uninhibited. I later found out that only alcohol seemed to unchain your true self: fiery, passionate.
For others around us you seemed bland and common. Yet I discovered what pyres burn inside your soul. I regret to this day that I have failed to teach you how to unleash yourself from the chains of routine and shyness. Fearful of God knows what, you accepted my invitation for a dessert with great reluctance, but driven by a feline curiosity, you came over to my place. You left frightened even more and you spoke to me no more for a while. And I grew impatient. Restless. Like a burning brand, you left your mark upon my heart, forever burning. I raged, I wept and then when silence reigned supreme, I accepted the fact that I had fallen for you. Of course you, spoke ill of me and my feelings until I took a cab in the middle of the night and showed up at your door. I knew then as I know today that it was more than a simple desire that drove me. It was more than lust and red-blooded passion.
I felt for you as I will never again feel for someone else. I truly and deeply loved you. I still do. And as this song plays over and over and as my tears flow over my old keyboard at 3.50AM, it feel my heart beating broken. For that is what I have left after you were gone. A broken, shattered heart. It hurts but I move on. And there are days like this when I remember the good times we had together. Times that will never come back and will remain dead in our memories, like ashes carried by an autumn wind.
Boys do not cry, love. But men learn to cry when they are alone. It is but appropriate to admit that, now that I do have a reason to cry for. Pain can be endured physically, it is true. Whatever pain I felt when you were gone, was different. It was like you tore my heart apart and threw it into a fire. As it was burning, so were my feelings for you turned to ash. It is then a good time to ask if I still feel something for you. If, when I see you down the street, does my heart remember the pain. I'd lie to tell you that I feel nothing. That the pain went away and I am perfect as the day before I fell for you.
It hurts, love. But in this pain I find solace with the thought that you are happy. I find peace knowing that you are loved and cared about. Or are you? Maybe someday you will call me, happily married with a great and fulfilling life ahead of you. Maybe that day will be the day when we will sit together at a cup of tea and speak of memories long gone and speak of things that ne'er shall be ... Maybe ...
For now, all I have are my memories of your candid smile, your blue eyes and your soft blonde hair in the summer's wind. I love you.
Adieu.
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