I drove by our old home the other day.
The cute little white house with red trim on Cherry Street. The one I'm kind of shocked is still there...being built in 1900 and all.
I wasn't alone, I don't think I could have done it alone. I avoid that street everyday, even though it would make my drive to work significantly faster...so I had to bring someone with me.
It felt good to go back there, even for just a few minutes.
He was holding my hand as we drove up to it.
I said, "there it is! my favorite little house."
I showed him where you built the fire pit and I told him how we used to have the best talks with our friends out there during the summer. I wondered if those friends are now your friends today, I haven't seen them.
I showed him where we attempted to grow our first garden, but only got one little baby cucumber out of it - which we let go bad anyways - OOPS. My green thumb has gotten much better now, I have 10 happy plants just in my room alone! Vegetable garden will come next, I can only dream of that for now ;)
I showed him the window I accidentally shattered when I locked myself out because of that pesky lock we both hated so much. I told him the story of how I was standing inside with blood dripping everywhere when you got home and how all we could do was laugh and enjoy what happened to be our last new years eve together, and try not focus on how the hell we were going to fix it for the next few nights so we wouldn't totally freeze.
I showed him where my bike got stolen and told him yours did too, pointed out each window, including smoosha's favorite - where she used to sit and wait for us to come home everyday. We walked the old paths you and I used to go on walks together and went to the park where you tried to teach me how to play tennis. So many stories came back to me and I told him each one.
It was weird to remember you.
It was weird to be telling someone about you, showing someone new our memories, reminiscing on you and us and that place, that life we had together.
It feels like a completely different life than the one I'm so happily living now.
I'm a month away from having a master's degree, I've successfully lived with all kinds of roommates for over a year now, I've gotten to know and love myself in a completely different way than ever before. I've had more little heart breaks and relationships, I've said goodbye to good friends, I've planned a trip of a life time, I've pierced new holes in my face and even dyed my hair purple. I've developed strong feelings for another human being and gotten closer to them than I ever allowed myself to get to you...all things I used to think I could never do without you. Then again I did used to believe I would literally turn into dust if we were to part, so I'm glad that piece wasn't true.
But I'm still here. I'm still so okay.
And dammit, that feels good.
Thank you, from the bottom of my heart, for being a part of my story.
