The past was more present in The First Life

I keep thinking of a day…or maybe couple of days that have blended together.
It was the warm part of Autumn. Leaves had fallen, the colors were bright hues of red and yellow, sunset orange. I drove you in my shitty car to a shitty gas station in the middle of town.
We’d buy dollar cups of coffee. The coffee came out of those pump coffee canteens, and they were almost always running out by the time we got to them..
We’d sit in the back of the gas station, at these tall, round, white tables. At least, I remember them being white…who knows if they are. We’d talk, but I don’t remember what about. We always had something to talk about. Sometimes I marvel at that, looking back.
Although those moments were so long ago, at least 4 years ago, they feel so vivid to me. I feel like I can touch them, breathe them. I still miss them sometimes.
I remember how my biggest fear of losing you was that I’d never get to create those memories again. That we would not live those times together again. I was always assured that that feeling would fade, I would create new memories to replace those ones....
I have not....
I can remember those days like no other. The colors, smells, what you wore. I can remember more about those times than I can remember about any time in the past 3 years.
I was present back then.
I remember many talks we had. I remember our talk the first night at my sister’s farmhouse house when we first started dating. I remember talking about what we believe in, the universe, religion on the front porch of my mom’s house during one of our breakups. I remember talking about my college Creative Writing professor and you called me out for having a crush on him, and you talked about your art teacher, how she contacted you years after you graduated. There was the time you invited me over after we had been broken up for some time, and it was late, like 2am…we stayed up until the sun rose, drinking. We left as the fire died out and drove into the sunrise on our way back into town. I said something about the sun, and you looked at me and said “you’re so amazing”.
There was the time you left for tour, you woke early to go. I remember the way my heart felt. I remember how scared and sad I felt. I rolled over and pressed my face into your sheets to smell what was left of you.
I can recall every place I was during every breakup phone call you made to me. My heart still races thinking back to those moments. It races in a sad-sick way.

I could go on for miles and days of all the memories and how bright, saturated and vivid they all are.

Some days I marvel at them all. What a story it was. What a story it still is, really.

Last updated August 21, 2017