How Have You Been?

I think I like burning bridges. Like choosing the right path down to the left, instead of the forked road down the street. It's better this way sometimes-- to end up walking around without you. But I'm not as afraid of crowded streets.  I remember you! Do you remember me? I hope you don't think this is strange. I hope you don't hate me anymore. Maybe we can be friends again? Or maybe not? I am not so sure. We're different people now. That's a good thing though-- right? 

I think I like building where old bridges burned down. Like familiar old monuments that you read about when you were a kid, that left strange nostalgia in your bones. So familiar, so consistent, and since so much isn't, it's really nice to see you again. Maybe we don't even need to speak? We can just glance at each other and smile-- and that would be enough to make me feel like I used to. High school right? What a time, right?

I think I like to remember people just as much as I like to forget them, even if they don't like to remember me. I like to give people space, because we need to grow-- like two vines going to different corners of an old stone building. I like coming back to people too, because when we're old and I've spent my time and you've spent yours, we'll look at that time we overlapped and laugh about everything else in between. We'll sit on some adult terrace somewhere in some adult cafe over a cup of old coffee someplace downtown where nobody knows who we are or what we were, or any of the secrets kept between you and I.