(This encounter was not random but it was a missed connection).
I haven’t seen you in ages.
You asked me to visit one of our old haunts together. I nervously accepted. When I opened my door to let you in my house, it was like time collapsed from a year ago to the present. My instinct was to gather you into a hug and give you warm kisses. Instead, we looked at each other awkwardly with a million memories and feelings vibrating between our separate forms.
We spent the afternoon commenting on the colors and patterns of plants, giggling at the bold sexuality of their terrestrial bodies. I hid behind my camera lens and tried not to let you see me blush.
I want to let you know that you redeemed relationships for me. You proved that love is not selfish. There was a connection between us but it was one that missed the mark. You live in a world of apathy and memory while I dwell in one of spirit and presence. We don’t meet in the middle. You are a desert plant, nourished with little, while I have learned to compete for my temperate life.
