Tuesday, July 23, 2013


I thought about what I would miss about you most if we said goodbye. And immediately, I knew.
Our connection, I thought.
And the sex. Definitely.

In the car on the way home from your family reunion, I asked what you would miss about me most if we said goodbye.
Our communion, you said.
And the sex. Definitely.

What about you? you asked.

What was that? I responded.

(I heard you but was still gathering my thoughts. I had imagined you reciting a long list of my most uniquely me attributes – the way my nose moves when I talk, my penchant for speaking in unidentifiable accents, the way I overuse “you know what I mean?” as a filler between thoughts…)

But you didn’t. List those things. Or any others. You said exactly what I would. And it wasn’t enough, somehow, for some reason. Something was missing.

What about you? you asked again.
What would you miss most about me?

I answered, and added one more. I would just miss you.

But I think, the truth is this: we would just miss us.

And isn't that enough?

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