Wishful Thinking
Hey.. It's strange how we've been friends for so long, but the moment I met you just seems like yesterday. Yeah, your headband. Man, that killed me.
Do you remember when we were still in seventh grade? In freshman high school? Do you remember December of 1999? Do you remember the coke can? Do you remember the pillow? Do you remember sitting under the stars, the grass looking upon us from below our feet? Do you remember taking my hand? Do you remember telling me about her? Do you remember telling me in detail how you apologized to her and got her friendship back? Do you remember?
I was in my new room that Christmas season. It was the joyful season where I stayed in bed for a whole two weeks. When I finally came out, my aunt said I lost a few pounds. Go figure, I didn't have food in my room. The telephone was enough to fulfill my hunger. Your voice was enough. Did you know that I spent hours memorizing the white dots on my bedroom ceiling, wondering what I did wrong? I remembering telling you. And you, you told me to stop.
I wish you didn't have to leave for how many months, and just grow distant. I told you this about a million and a hundred times: Where'd our friendship go? Listening to your CDs almost everyday reminds me so much of you, so much of the time you held my hand. I felt it, and it was real. I wish i had more of the last hug you gave me, that tear in your eye, those three words, when translated to the native tongue means more to me than the world. I wish I had more of that. Would it be so out of line to say that? I do wish I had more of that. Why? ... You know why.
I've wished for a magical moment recently. I've found myself staring into space, picturing myself in a coffee shop, waiting for someone to sit with me and say, "Hey, what's going on? What're you reading?". And that will be the first line of our very interesting conversation. We would sit together and have coffee and a few smokes. We would walk together, and he would walk me home. We would pass fields of green and skies of blue. And it will be magical. We would spend time together every chance we get, and we would hang out and talk about the greatest poets of the world. He would read to me Morning by Pablo Neruda, or Sonnet CXVI by this guy called William Shakespeare. We will talk about art, and Van Gogh and Monet. We will talk about music, and theatre, and lie flat on our stomachs on God's great earth, sharing one book - The Holy Bible. We will run along the shore and plop down on the sand come night. And we will talk of and to the moon, and stare at the stars, and sleep in their light. And these are magical moments, only to that extent. These are magical moments, because he will be my friend, and nothing else.
I wish I had the chance to do those things with you. It would have been wonderful, and beautiful, and serene to have spent moments like that with you. And she? She was very lucky. But she blew it. ... And so did I. Please don't say I put you above the rest. I don't. I just miss you, and think wishful thoughts. I wish we didn't do what we did, or played around, and watch Time slip away. We were Time's fools. We didn't make the most out of it. If we did, we could've done those things, and experienced those magical moments. But no.
...
Do you remember calling me princess?
at 9:30 PM
