Memory’s a wonderful thing if we don’t have to deal with the past.
~Celine in Before Sunset
Dear Mr. Impulsive,
I don’t really know what you’re doing in my thoughts right now. We parted ways long ago, and I haven’t thought of you in years. But today, I heard a long-forgotten song on the radio, and it all came back, our summer. I remember how you lay down on the couch late one night, and asked me to sing for you. And so I did, softly and shyly, choosing that old, bittersweet song that spoke of goodbye. As I brushed the hair away from your forehead, you closed your eyes, just listening. Then you got up, took my hand, and we sneaked onto the rooftop of the one of the most famous buildings on campus. We sat there, just talking, and in my heart I knew that I shouldn’t let myself fall for you. It was too fast, too wrong. I was going to regret it. Then the sun rose, and you whispered, “Will you stay, for me?” I caught my breath.
The answer was no, is still no, and could only be no. But in that moment, I wished — more than I let you see — that it could have been yes.
Thinking of you (and not knowing why),