As I jog past your house.

I jog past your house Monday through Friday, and I remember when you moved here, the day you passed me in your grandmother’s car, and almost instantly I was in love. I remember walking past your house, and you calling out to me. Introducing yourself, you where beautiful, friendly, and funny. I was scared to death of you.

I jog past your house Monday through Friday and each day I recall something new; like how you used to lay in my lap late into the night, chatting and talking about the oddest things like space travel, and monsters, and ghost, and witchcraft, or about what has happened to us in our short lives, and what we had done to deserve these things. I recall when you where grounded for a week once, so I went and sat by the lake and wrote you letters in the moon light, and then gave them all to you when I saw you next. That week seemed to stretch forever.

I jog past your house Monday through Friday and I see you and I doing crazy things like you ridding on my back as we walked through the woods and talking about how your breast felt against the back of my head; you where always such a tease to me. I remember sitting out in the woods up against trees next to each other, talking about alien abductions, or any number of entertaining topics, and laughing till we cried. Always laughing; god you had the most beautiful smile.

I jog past your house Monday through Friday and I think about when your grandfather died, and you sat with me by the lake for a long time crying on my shoulder. I wish I could have saved you from that, but not even I can stop death if I could I would. I remember watching your Dog when you where gone for his funeral, and how for some odd reason it loved me and not a single other person your family knew. I never told you how I sat in your house sometimes for hours looking through your family albums, hoping we would one day share an album of our own.

I jog past your house Monday through Friday and I remember coming and sitting with you on days when you where home alone, sick, and fetching things for you. I remember sitting with you and playing video games on the days you played hookie. I remember the day you curled up in my lap on your couch in a robe; whispering to me you had nothing else on under that robe, and smiling at me, in that wicked way of yours, and me calling you a tease. I remember you kissing me, that one and only kiss I ever got from you as you stood up, and letting the robe drop to the floor, and just as suddenly with a sparkle in your eye you skipped off stark naked and perfect to the bathroom to shower.

I jog past your house Monday through Friday and recall the pain I felt when I was told you where dead. That night a very large peace of my heart shut, and was locked forever. I remember sitting at Barry’s apartment with Grant on the back patio listening to him ramble on about how much he will miss you, and how much I wanted to slam his fucking head into the concrete and scream at him as blood ran out his ears that he knew nothing of pain, or regret. Instead I listened to him in silent agreement.

I jog past your house Monday through Friday and I miss you so much; thinking of you coming to me in college café and telling me you loved me, and how you had always loved me, but never told me because you where unsure, and did not know at times if it was real or not, that is was a mistake to marry the man you married. I remember feeling like I was second place, and my pride got in the way. I remember telling you that you made that bed and it was time to sleep in it, and that friends is all we where, and that we had ever been. I remember then turning around and walking away, I do not remember ever seeing you in school again after that, and it breaks my heart anew ever time I think about that day. It was the last time I spoke to you. If I had known it was my last chance, I would have taken it in an instance, damn my pride.

I jog past your house Monday through Friday and you are the ghost forever watching me as I jog away. I did love you; do still, more than I loved any one person on this earth, and I miss you, more than is sometimes bearable. I am sorry I never went to your funeral, and I am sorry I never checked on your daughter. I have shed an ocean of tears for you, but just like in life you will never know, because now you are a Monday through Friday memory.