heart failed.
two moons spanned and suddenly things are missing. like that sparkle in my eye. the familiarity of your touch. that almost-automatic sense of completeness.
and what are we to make of the heart that failed to skip the required beat at the nearness of you?
right now, right beside me are long-stemmed white roses (never red) and heart-shaped balloons– arbitrary things meant to serve as reminders. reminders reminding me that i still belong to you and you to me.
do you? do i?
do forgive me for forgetting.
tomorrow, don’t forget to remind me to remember not to forget…
something from an old journal. again.
august 5, 2001.
was the day you told me you love me.i don’t think i told you i love you,too.
but then, you knew, didn’t you?you always knew.
