I don't miss him. No, that's a lie. I do miss him. But I can't allow mysef to miss him. Ever since we ended I've been doing my best to forget all about him. I'm slowly suceeding and I have recently put myself back on the "dating market" again and then suddenly news got out that I was single again.
The word spread like wild fire and now I have men who want to marry me and steal me away to romatic countries of the world and have me become a housewife for them. But there is one man who has my attention most of all. We met last year in 2012 and he is very nice to me. He's funny and he reminds me of a puppy. Caring and very sincere.
But Im afraid he'll be another wolf.
A wolf who disguises himsef in sheep's clothing.
I fear that he'll hurt me.
So I have to keep searchin for that 'perfect' man-- if perfection does exist.
Perhaps this is my first heartbreak-- but there has always been that one man who I have loved.
He was my first- ever.
I can not tell you how good he was to me. He was careful, timid, and gentle as if handling a glass crown for some uncontrollable princess. He slaid so many of my demons. My darling was so good to me and he sincerely unbelievably undeniably irrevocably passionately gently softly devotingly loved me-- not with the kind of love people say to eachother each day as some house tool for the heart--- but he loved me with the kind of love that kings and great men fight over.
One day on our couch he told me when he had first fallen in love with me.
A hot sunny summer day in the Grand Canyon where illusions sizzle in the distance. Where big black crows hop on foot to the other on the heated roads of Route 66. Where summer bums can climb to the top of the cliffs and dive down to the freezing waters of the river. He had told me that his friends and him were gathering the ice chests, umbrellas, and bottles of sun screen. He wore his white trunks with thick black hipster glasses with softly coated jelly in his short cropped black hair. He was nearly beautiful with his white sleeveless coat along with his sandles and a camera strapped across his shoulder. There were so many detail that added up to that day but that paticular day meant something a little bit more than another oher usual day. Then in the short distance-- he saw me.
It was no big deal when he saw me. I was no angel that had smitten him with the glance of sight. But he remembers that my hair looked like rope.
The kind of hair that mermaids brush with sea shells on the lone rocks that seduce pirates into crashing into a reef.
He remembers seeing me take off my sandals and pulling my hair out of a bun then stepping slowly to the end of the cliff with hazy eyes as if I was comitting suicide-- but he knows I was only cliff diving.
For fun I was cliff diving.
He and his friends stepped to the cliff and gazed down. "They were triple dog daring eachother," he told me as he continued the story.
His friends didnt have the guts to jump.
Just a couple of wannabe jocks and a few Corona bottles.
Then I looked at him and he looked at me.
He told me," You'll die if you jump."
I looked at him and bragged that I jump off all the time. The canyon wall at this height was no problem.
With one strong curl of muscle in my legs, I leaped from the canyon perch and down to the water.
As if some crazy instinct had taken over him- he dropped his camera to the ground.
Kicked off his sandals.
Stripped from his white coat.
"Are you crazy!?" his friend caught his shoulder.
then my favorite part.
He stretched a smile," I'm not letting a girl like that get away."
That was back in 2006.
and I miss him most of all.
In class I'd write him letters
Letters that I could never send him
he loved me
and i loved him
no matter what the imperfections were-- we were always happy
and if you're wondering..... Yes, this is a true story
When I was at my worst-- He was at his best
But now today
now that he's gone
now that time has caught up with me
I see that no one
absolutely no one
not one man on this earth
No matter what it takes
in life or death
can ever ever
my darling, Peter