The Ache Against Infinity

On tippy toes, you approach my coach bus.

Squinting your perfectly rounded hazel eyes for greater clarity,

You bleed the softest of smiles when you finally see my face through tinted windows.

I had been attentively watching you against that deep red panelling.
The way you nervously put your hands in your pockets as you waited,

And how you lightly threw your head back, heartily laughing,
As you took a phone call.

Your neon cargo shorts mirroring your bright personality.

I wanted so badly to break this glass barrier between us,

To transgress it,

To run back into your strong caramel arms,

To feel the rounded curves of your muscles,

And softness of your skin,

To tell you that leaving is something I just can’t do.

Waiting for my difficult departure seems endless,

I cushion the space by remembering staring at your car clock,

6:47pm,

Praying that I could freeze the moment your lips touched mine,

The one where you kissed me with emergency three times in the closest of intervals.

Your fingers touch your rounded lips as you blow me kisses.

Your eyes whisper the softest “I love you baby,”

And it becomes apparent to me that this is the moment I have been dreading,

The moment that I have tried to forstall for days.

I smile even as my sadness rises,

Nodding my head in a single motion,

But the hollowness bubbles,

It wells deep in my chest.

This ache is the hardest.
Knowing that the space between us will grow wider, 
More expanse, 

Its the most unforgiving of pain.

I watch as you walk away slowly,

Never turning back,

And then my single, it seems my only, tear falls.

I wonder, will you pensively think of me as you drive home…

Through those roads decorated by the towering green trees and the amber setting sun?

In the stillness of your car’s silent soundtrack,

Will you become overcome with emotions just as I had driving in our last car ride together?

When you are long out of sight, and the road breaks apart open green fields,

I stare into my faint reflection.

I remember how the hazel in your eyes stretches out and intermingles, and yet remains distinct, from the camoflauge green.
This thought begins to grant a reprieve.

I remember how it feels to lie in your embrace after I’ve cried,

To feel soothed by the rhythm and rise of your breathing, and the warmth of your heat.

How it was only this morning,

That we sat sitting up, 
You with closed eyes and I with my ear directly over your heart,

Trying to commit the rhythm, 
A deep resounding bass,
Of your heartbeat to my memory.

This is what it feels like to love somebody.

To love someone so deeply that even infinity is not enough.

To leave them steals the words from your lips,

It blurs the disorganized chaos in your head,

Draws a stinging pain,

One that is partnered by hyperventilating.

As the coach bus establishes a rocking pace,

And the sound of the rubber wheels hitting pavement fills in the silence,

I remember that night at Durand Eastman beach,

Where my bare feet touched the cool sand for the first time this season.

You sat next to me on that low grey rock for two,
You remember?

Intertwining our fingers,

My head lightly laying against your shoulder.

As you stared into the distance,

Your face was framed by a pink sunset,

And it was here that I came to know that there is nothing more powerful than living in this moment, 
Rather,

In every moment that we create together. 
It is ever powerful to live as though it is the last and only sensibility that matters.

In these endless increments of time,

Our love is what drowns out the ache that only separation yields.

Our love is what enables the beauty that is our interlocked infinity.
This is what I have come to know.
This is what our love has taught me.

Retrospective

I looked down a nearly empty subway car as the doors chimed and quickly closed.
Overwhelmed,
Tucked away in the car's corner,
I began to cry.
Turning to my right,
I watched the flicker of speed,
And we few riders moved through the city's dark tunnel.
Curly ringlets,
A serious reflection,
I stared back as the car emerged from the tunnel to an alleyway of graffiti.
There was safety in this corner,
Safety to engage in a retrospective.
Safety to remember that it was exactly a year ago when life changed.

You sent me a note that morning...wishing me luck.
I was touched that I had even crossed your mind.
That you even remembered me,
Or what I needed,
I was, after all,
A girl you'd never met in the flesh.
I'd spent nearly a year planning this day that would launch,
I thought,
My career.
My friends joked that this day had nothing to do with professional aspirations,
It was love that was at its center.
It was love that would burst onto the scene.
I laughed.
Thinking, naturally, that they'd gotten it all wrong.

As my car pulled into the next station,
The rhythm of the train slowed,
The frames of an empty platform track came into focus.
Solace.
Not from the distress of sadness,
But from the distress of having my my space inhibited.
I wanted to be in the present,
To look backwards,
So that I could be grateful,
So that I could see clearly,
Through this tracking back in the waters of memory,
How the universe planned this puzzle-piece of a path.

I had no idea what would come of our short notes to each other.
I didn't even know what I wanted of them,
But you intrigued me.
I'd spent months writing you,
Only in short phrases.
But that was enough for me.
Enough to feel a spark of a connection.
Something cosmic.
Enough to draw out excitement at every surprise string of words you sent my way.
I spent a few evenings later in my friend's kitchen,
A mojito in hand as I washed fresh mint leaves and poured out sugar for a new ring,
Bragging about you,
About this mystery that desired my attention.
I wanted to draw more from our brief moments.

The train conductor announced my station.
I lept,
Almost loosing my step.
The doors opened,
Almost hesitantly,
And I walked more confidently,
With a pulsing bounce to my step.
Stepping onto the fast-paced escalator,
I gripped the railing.
Letting everyone pass me,
I stayed present-minded.
Closing my eyes,
Feeling a flush of light breeze that rushed through the escalator's corridor.
I let it wisp my curls,
I let it relax me,
I let it dry the last tear that remained on my face.

It was only a year ago that everything changed.
That everything I had been waiting for,
Everything that was powerful and euphoric,
Synchronistic and beautiful,
It was a year ago that this was finally put into motion.
The universe was giving me what I was finally able to embrace.

I passed through the turnstile,
Climbing a second set of stairs,
Pushing through a final set of doors to the ground level.
The evening was clear,
The sky the darkest of black.
I almost forgot where I was.
Thinking only of what my future might look like.
Of where I'd be on this very day,
One year from today.
Retrospective moments,
I thought,
Were blessings weren't they...?
If only we could be patient,
Patient to be in the present.