10/30/16

10:35 PM

Dear Biscuit,

Remember the time I said

"You know what sounds good?"

"What?"

"Biscuits."

And we opened the fridge and there was a package of biscuits on the top shelf?

And you mom made them for dinner?

There's too many funny things

With you and me

We are a stack of inside jokes

Built on a plate of long forgotten lies

That's the thing about old friends, friend: we tend to forget

I can't afford to forget with you.

I forgot with lemon

I forgot with strawberry

For frozen waffles, well there was nothing to remember

But with you : we need to remember where we started and how far we've come, how alive we still are, however thin the rope that ties us together is these days, because it's still there, stretching across streets and highways and towns and deaths and illnesses to bind us across the distance.

We used to claim strange things could happen.

We used to believe in another world.

I still do.

Do you?

I want to go there now

Because life is unfurled in front of us like this dark vat of released smoke, pushing on and on into the oblivion of adulthood. 

Can you see the end?

Can you see the beginning?

Our footprints disappear behind us

Because time is just smoke and looking back is just an illusion because all that's behind us is a little wisp of smoke that will soon leave us, too.

How can I miss you if there's nothing to miss?

If you disappear behind me like melting snow?

If you sprint ahead and throw yourself into the bottomless smoke? 

How?

I need to open my fridge and find you there just because I asked for you and because sometimes things work out even if you don't think they will and I feel like I need to prove that to you because I truly believe it and I see no reason why you shouldn't. 

       Your Friend,

               Never

(PS if you read this -- which you really might -- I'm fine, and you will be soon.)