I live my life through the words I write
I think back to years ago
recalling small, singular events
of you, and me, and us.
I start with what I remember,
then my mind switches to imagination
and runs away.
As it runs away
it conjures stories and conversations
I know never happened,
but are real enough behind my eyes
I sit confused, uncertain.
Did we kiss?
Did we date?
Did we love each other?
Or,
did we end before we could begin?
It’s so easy to think
if in one situation,
any one situation,
I had said one different sentence,
my life would be completely different.
I wonder if a person like you
exists out there, in the real world,
or if you live only
in my imagination.
People say all the right things,
make the opportune gestures,
and be everything we want them to be,
ourselves included.
Perfection is attainable,
if we can meet the right person
where everything will fall into place.
That’s the trouble,
and addicting allure,
of daydreaming.
I do it to myself
I know
playing the game of what-ifs
that never ends.
The lure of possibilities
never taken,
likely never to be explored
offers respite, a getaway,
temporary change.
The hard part
is coming back.
Dawning Words 