Love letter # 136

There is a door inside me that opens onto a world we once shared, with its secret geography and private jukebox. This street – its bars, its late night revels, its kissing in public – and those records – our lovers’ soundtrack still playing. All of it so alive. Still visceral beneath the eggshell skin of time. Like the dance that happens in the quiet between heartbeats.

I sometimes get sad when I think of it; but mostly now I am uplifted. Inspired. We are like a classic movie. When I see it I am reminded of the things that truly matter and I forget the daily trammels. The huff and bluster of my pride and vanity are drowned out by the song of those beautiful scenes – and I remember that I once loved and was humbled – was broken and made anew.

I stride down the street like some kind of king until memory catches sight of me and then I turn the corner where I once crawled before you.

Whatever you are doing now and however you recall those ridiculous days, know that you have made something wonderful in me. More than mere nostalgia or wanton regret, you made me realise. And you still do. I can never thank you enough for that.





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