Destination Memory Lane
Sometimes I Want to Remember — Pieces of Me
“We write to heighten our own awareness of life. We write to lure and enchant and console others. We write to taste life twice, in the moment and in retrospection.”- Anais Nin
I’d never had Sundays like those before…
The kind where you make it all up as you go…simply no destination in sight.
We had lingered through random shops with oddball things.
We were obnoxious and everyone stared, hating us. Using gum wrappers we’d written wishes on slips of paper tucking them in between the dirty slats of old picnic tables.
(I told you secrets I still hate remembering.)
Every time I looked up, you had traced my smile with rough fingertips and I’d laughed, pulling away. When you tried to sneak a kiss, I would look down and you’d kiss the top of my head and I’d finally let myself fall into you.
(I should’ve stood up.)
You bought me old books and beaded bracelets. We overdosed on candy before not splitting lunch. I got a stomachache and you rubbed my back in a way that was sweet but bordered on hungry.
(You let me have everything, except you.)
As it grew darker, our legs hurt. We leaned on each other taking the long way home. Silly. Carefree. Wonderful. We found paths to nowhere, and paved them only for us.
(I’m still lost.)
As the sun set we skipped stones like children, laughing too loudly and thinking mostly about bedtime and undressed skin and moonlit love.
(This part is true.)
-Tiffany Simone writes pretty words and ugly truths. You can read them here and on Instagram and Facebook. She’s all over the place, so don’t try to figure her out.
