Set a timer for ten minutes. Open a new post. Start the timer, and start writing. When the timer goes off, publish.
Memories. Fragmented dreams. Making their way into my subconscious. Reminding me of moments. Treasured moments, yes. Precious moments with you.
Conversations inside coffee shops. Me, drinking coffee; you drinking none.
Malunggay pesto. You, reading poetry from one of the books by the shelf; me, just listening, silently pondering.
Pizza. Pasta. I’m not sure why, but we usually eat Italian.
FX rides, tricycle rides, me stumbling and bumbling around.
You, in your boat shoes and “ballerina socks” as you call them.
Me, talking into my phone’s speaker, tears leaking out of my eyes.
So I’m waiting for that moment – two months, three months, four months from now. When I’ll get say “hey” to you again in person. When these fragments become real and not mere wistful imagination.