Thursday, June 23, 2011

A Different Crop

I used to miss you so bad. I used to think back over hot summer days, and the freezing winter ones, spend lying on the grass, gazing into the blue, blue sky. I used to miss the way you laughed, and especially your gorgeous smile. I used to miss our conversations, the way we seemed to be able to talk about anything with honesty. I used to miss not having you around.

But then I grew up. High school days are but a distant memory now, those people ghosts, shadows which sometimes flit across the expanse of memory, and then melt again into the greyness of distance - Time's signature for forgotten souls. I knew you would become one of them. You said otherwise, but I knew. It's because I know me, and I used to know you. We weren't the type to cultivate something when it grew out of reach. And we have grown in different directions now, have we not? Still, I feel that I could bend in the breeze and touch you, bringing you back into the life from which you have not completely disappeared, but I'm not sure I want to. We were what we were, but I don't miss you anymore.

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