One Year, Six Months

One Year, Six Months

Sew this up with threads of reason and regret

So I will not forget, I will not forget

How this felt one year, six months ago, I know

I cannot forget, I cannot forget

I thought when I went to the party, I'd forget that tonight I remembered. Maybe I'd forget one year, six months ago. The worst day of my life.

But even with three whiskeys in my stomach and a fourth burning its way down my throat, even with a beautiful girl named Maria or Mary dancing all over me with her skimpy white skirt and big blue eyes, I cannot forget. I cannot forget that you are so much more beautiful than MariaMary, that six hundred whiskeys couldn't rival your presence, couldn't take your face away from my regretful memory.

I'm falling into memories of you

Things we used to do

Follow me there, a beautiful somewhere

A place that I can share with you

You were so much to me. I hate that. I hate knowing you don't love me anymore. I hate how I try and make myself erase you like this. I want to hate you. Though I guess there's no use in hating or wanting, because it's too late anyway.

But that's when, of course, I saw you. I blinked, twice, to make sure that this wasn't some cruel hallucination of an undernourished mind, but there you were, laughing with a man in a corner of the loud, smoky room, your long red hair falling all over your face. Your head was resting against the wall, and I saw him step closer to you, no doubt asking you to dance. But who wouldn't? You always were so beautiful.

And dance you did, to some clandestine song made almost tangible in the dark air, and you don't know how much I envied your partner at that moment. I don't think I knew, either, just knew at once the desire biting at the pit of my stomach could not be held at bay any longer.

And suddenly, I found myself standing right behind you, clearing my throat.

"Can I step in?" Why did my voice sound so strange?

I saw you freeze, saw you tremble in surprise and could it really be's. You knew this voice. My voice.

Your partner, oblivious, laughed and moved to the center of the room, already forgotten, and you turned around, not quite ready to face me and face whatever else came with me, but whatever else could you do?

I can tell that you don't know me anymore

It's easy to forget, sometimes we just forget

Being on this road is anything but sure

Maybe we'll forget, I hope we don't forget

It was as if everything was put on hold except us and your golden eyes staring into mine and trying to hold on to everything you'd just had, everything you'd just made. But I could feel it slip between your fingers as well as mine, and your sadness too tangible in the hazy light.

And there you were again, and there was a year and six months pushing us away.

But I'd waited too long for a year and six months to get in the way.

So I spoke first: "It's been awhile, Ginny."

You nodded, and I could barely hear you over the rest of the world: "It doesn't matter."

I knew. "I'm sorry," I said, loudly, because if I wasn't loud you'd be able to hear the break in my voice.

There wasn't a reply to that. You looked down, wondering why - if - you should care.

So many nights

Legs tangled tight

Wrap me up in a dream with you

Close up these eyes

Try not to cry

All that I got to pull me through

Is memories of you

"Do you want to dance?" And I was surprised at how small my voice sounded for such a big question, for such a big feeling, for such a big world. But it was a useless question, because my arms were already around you now, and I knew nothing else.

"I don't want to be dragged into this," you whispered, but you already were, and I felt your tears on my neck and I was awed that I could do something like that to you.

"Do you remember...?" I began, because I wanted you to.

"Yes," you said quickly, interrupting me because you did not want to drown in those memories like I had long before. You didn't want to remember dancing with me a year and six months ago, but then I found you looking up at me with those eyes, and you said with your heart that you needed me. And then we were dancing again, like old times, like a year and six months ago times, and what a wonderful feeling it was to feel you. To see your eyes, unsteady and afraid, but so close, so close to respect.

We danced forever and in no time forever had passed and we were outside, wondering (though it was much more like hoping) that we would be back one year, six months ago. That we would both give in to what our hearts told our heads.

And we knew it wouldn't be easy; we knew we'd have to try. But I knew I wouldn't give you up this time. I knew how good it was, after one year, six months, to have your hand in mine.

-End-