So, my lover is a long distance lover. We have been texting every day since what seems like, forever. My thoughts of him are never far from my mind. And he tells me that he has conversations with me out loud in our old apartment where we lived that last summer before I came to Central and had to move miles away…seems only yesterday.
We rented a tiny flat in a hundred-year-old building in the Hollywood hills on retro Ivar Avenue. Less than 450 square feet, like a walk-in closet with a bathroom and a micro fridge in the kitchen.
A lover’s flat so small we had to open the ancient-painted living room windows wide to get the bed in.
With a built-in closet dresser otherwise we would have none–tiny stoop out the porch for, one.
We shared a few months and then life pulled one of us north. The pulled-apart like a chicken heart pieces of us filleted.
And then I spent a summer in LA without him. Because our lives seemed two directions
that could not meet on the same road.
Or so I thought…It is 2013 now and we are back again on this road. He is power balling to get back in college for a second degree.
A Masters in Theatre. How sexy is that? Perhaps I will have my college romance yet. The envy of all the young birds flitting about, twitter lovebirds seventeen years younger than us…I will have my college love.
My flowers arrived two days ago and my whistling postman brought my two valentines from LA today.
Love is all around and it is never anything less than a miracle when someones are giving another chapter a write from the last.
Lucky me. And sealed with a lick cause a kiss won’t stick.
msmendesmith 