Woo baby, take me
Last night I found myself in a fit of nostalgia, thinking about my ex. She’s the one who got away etc. etc.
We’ve kept in touch, but for over a year now, she’s been MIA. Last we spoke, she divulged she had joined a well-known group of motorcycle misfits. Hard to believe as that way of life is so far removed from the girl I once knew.
I miss her.
Her fire-making skills might have smitten me as we hitchhiked across Canada and slept in tents. She took us on stunning trail walks deep in the woods and on lake-placid kayak trips.
Back in the city, we would dance the night away in a sweaty haze, heads and hearts swirling round and round and melting space-time as we shared our first kiss under fluffy snowflakes and blinking stars.
There were many firsts with her—including a ruinous broken heart.
When the walls cave in, it’s easy to get lost in the what-ifs and might-have-beens. I realize I’m maudlin, but sometimes, those fleeting memories are a quiet respite from the fury of present realities.