7:30

And yes I am writing to you once again. I can never cease to write, I know it is the only way I could enter your world, the only way I can hold your hand, feel your arms around me, feel your love and life. I hope my words would travel the rusty trails of this urban jungle we are in, to run through the obstructions of dusty streets and cold walls between us.

I am sitting here in this green wicker chair at Starbucks, with friends I have met long before I knew you. Long before I knew love. We are laughing, yet I do not feel the joy, we are talking yet I am making no sense, we are remembering yet there is no other memory but you. My thoughts seem to trail back to you, every detail of this tile-covered floor to the second table for two at the edge of this pavement where we sat and gazed at each other, not so long ago. An apparition of you I create, your dark waves as calm as the ocean during the night, your favorite red shirt, oh how you loved red, and now I can only imagine blood ripping through my skin, your eyes, those tiny slits on your face, retracing that Asian roots you got from your Mom, oh I remember how adorable she was. Patient, waiting for love, but never losing hope.

Then I look around, wishing to see your face… to bad hun… classes ends at 7:30.
12/7/4 4:46pm