Sometimes, I’m still in pieces over you.

I was watching him and his family in a park that slightly resembled Vancouver Island. My vantage point seemed like I was up in a tree. It was sunny, around 4-5pm as the sun was shinning golden off the water casting vibrant shadows through the trees. His sister was walking back from the shore across the grass to their cabin/rambler when she tripped over a rock and fell. I ran down from where I was, as fast as I could towards her, in total panic hoping she was alright. When I got there her mother was already down on the ground helping her up, I dropped to my knees to see the damange; she’d cut her eyebrow on a rock but otherwise it was nothing too bad. Their mother scowled in my face as if to chastise me for my unannounced arrival, and then stormed off into the house with her daughter under her arm. She had the same haircut as she did the last time I saw her; golden, honey & amber all curled with fringe as well.

Moments later he came walking towards me wearing the white t-shirt, jeans and white Nike shoes the day we first met. I stood there bracing for impact, waiting for him to tell me what a bad decision I had made for showing up, that I was stupid and that I needed to go. Instead, to my surprise, he took me by the hand and led me towards the house, through a sliding glass door which contained the laundry room with cement floors and walls, then into the garage which was home to an ugly 70’s green sofa and various pieces of half spray painted ply-wood and more cement walls.

We sat on the couch; he took my hands in his and began to tell me that he was so sorry for everything he’d done. That he was just scared before; that he couldn’t handle it and what was why he blanked me. Then he continued on that he wasn’t scared now and he was ready and wanting to make it work. He had that look in his eyes, the ever so rare look of sincerity and earnestness that was difficult to ignore or mistake.

Then, he wrapped me in his arms and pulled me close to him. I could smell his skin mixed with the dryer sheet smell on his white t-shirt. His lips felt warm against mine like they always did, soft to the touch. We sat on the couch for a while, with him craddling me in his arms, in a comfortable and soothing silence. The kind you feel blissful about where everything is said without words. Everything was so familiar, and like always, I woke up alone to a cold room and a tolling alarm clock.