A Thousand Words

I remember that it was unseasonably hot. The kind of hot that makes you feel sticky and uncomfortable no matter what you’re doing. I remember the shirt I was wearing, and how I didn’t really like it that much. I remember sitting in his truck making small talk – probably about the heat. I remember thinking how clean his truck was for a guy like him. I remember the deep creases around his blue eyes and him asking me if I liked his haircut. I did. I remember feeling the invisible canyon that was between us, and if one of us moved things would become suddenly complicated. I remember the way he looked at me, with his head cocked slightly to the side. I remember he kissed me even though I had honestly said I didn’t want him to, but I guess somewhere inside I really did. I told him I had to go, for reasons I don’t remember, and knew from then on we’d go our separate ways.

Today I remember him.