You’re becoming a feeling. I’ve already forgotten what it was like with you day by day. It’s scary how years’ worth of moments can be wiped away, reduced to feelings. Last night, I dreamt about you. I dreamt about what it was like to be a part of your family again. I can’t say I remember too much from the dream. You and I sat in the backyard. I tried to remember the features of your face, and I think I can still recall you in all your details. I hope you finish your goals. I hope you protect yourself. I hope you find your happiness.
She held my scars in that café, late night. She tells me she’s tired of LA, and that she’s moving away. But she wants to know about my hand. I tell her I’m not ready to share, so she tells me everything she went through. Well I can’t not share after that… I tell her and she stares at me in shock, but she doesn’t let my hand go. We’re up in the hills and we see all of Hollywood. She tells me that she only sees me for my kindness. I imagine that’s what you saw in me, and I tell her that’s not good. She agrees. “I’m not a good person.” But she held me close. I had forgotten what it was like to be held.