Writers Envy

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I wish there were more moments to recall, the ones that show us naked and afraid. Instead, I recall our time together as projections of idealized portraits, retouched and photo-shopped by minds unable to bear the sharp edges and blunt-force trauma that lovers stumble through along the boulder-strewn road of romance. I don’t want to recall only the good moments but the ungood moments too, but maybe it’s better that I only recall the good and let the ungood rest like closed wounds. If I remembered the ungood I might cry at the unpleasantness and the hurt and the anger and the fear. I recall your smile without effort while your frown I don’t recall at all.

In my dreams, I miss the potholes of anger that threatened to break me at the knees, and the curves that made my mind whirl at the change of gears within your mind. In my dreams, I miss the times I…

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