Last 4th of July

You and I were speaking or rather FB’ing sweetly that day. I thought for sure I was going to see you in two weeks’ time. I felt desired, possibly loved, excited and anxious, wondering how it would pan out all the while allowing myself to dream unabashedly, wishing to close the gap between misunderstandings and sly deflection. You were with me throughout an extended family gathering featuring bbq, ‘chisme’ and suburban fireworks. I looked up at the luminous night sky and I pictured you because I know it would (and still does) make me smile. You remain my latest and my last temptation – my most recent sleepless night. Maybe with you I reached my breaking point – toward numbness – In the days leading up to my one-way flight, I would dance alone in the living room, picturing you watching me from an imagined doorway. I wanted to be known as the girl by your side – I wanted to be your fellow adventurer. I thought – foolishly – with me you’d be reformed because you chose it so. I convinced myself repeatedly and continually that we ‘are good for each other’.


A year has gone by and the last time you stumbled by my table in the Upstairs Cafe and delivered an awkward final hug, it was an Aruba morning in January. No more sign since then – instead a perfunctory, precipitated friendship deletion. But these semi-assertive moves are ultimately empty gestures. You, your memory and ideal keep popping up. Do I miss you? As many of us say: Yes and no. There is something about you I can’t seem to shake. What it is exactly, I do not know. It’s mainly potential and a once-upon-a-time confession. I cannot plausibly imagine your current thoughts veering toward my person. But it’s nice to believe they may – and why not? I admit I wonder whether our paths will intersect again. My parents will most likely see you soon. Will you recognize my mother? Will she remember you?


I would have carried your child, imagine that. I can hardly wrap my head around it. A year ago, the road seemed to widen ahead to fit us in. Now, only the once-excited dust remains. I am chasing a dream – a dream of you holding me close while NYC lights flicker at dusk, hot chocolates in our hands, and plenty of tomorrows by our side.