we met the day my movie began.
you know how movies always start on the day something new happens? you met me days before i closed a brief but important chapter, which was really just the beginning of the end of a much larger chapter. you were at a place of closing and opening, as well. i'd like to think that meeting during this auspicious time was the beginning of something new, but it remains to be seen exactly what, if anything, you mean to me. i fear that i mean very little, if anything, to you.
there were several small sound bytes that you dropped, quietly, seemingly unknowing that you were speaking very directly to intimate parts of me...things that made me wonder how you knew that?! are you aware of how intuitive you are? are you utilizing this skill to elevate or to seduce? i'm sure you understand that you affect other people, but i'm not sure you understand how deeply in some cases. in cases like these cases.
like ella says, i've got you under my skin. i have spent the last several weeks exercising your memory, trying to shake it off, but all this time later you remain, in some way, ever in my consciousness. i am seeing other people and it's quite unfair to them because flashes of you revisit involuntarily and i am swept away. it's pretty unfair for me because i am convinced that you don't think of me. that you forgot me before i came to visit and again very shortly after i got on my plane to go. i thought something cosmic happened when we first saw each other. i felt that "oh shit this is important" feeling in my belly, that scary something that's nonetheless so important to do. i saw the way you looked at me, across the table all adoring this gentle flower you couldn't believe you were just meeting. and we kissed for the first time out front of the cafe where i ate today with a belgian filmmaker. and we kissed again on the rooftop at the art school where i took the belgian filmmaker after lunch. and all the while i am thinking of you. wondering how you are. if my prayer is working and you are growing into the man of my future. if you ever think of me.
you are probably a silver tongued scoundrel. and these future visions are probably not pieces of prophecy (as real as they felt) but expressions of my desire to attain whatever it is that you represented to me at the time. someday i will be married and have babies with some other guy who thinks of me. and i might still think of you. and that'll have to be okay.