It's Thursday
My friend Trent used to say "Thursday" meant true love. I don't remember how that started but I do remember him whispering "It's Thursday" to me and knowing he meant he loved me, our shared secret. Trent woke up one day and chose to make a deep distance between us, cutting all communication after years of beautiful friendship in one day. Since then, I know he's still on the earth, still in this country, living his life, but I can never reach him. The ways I've tried over the years have left me frustrated and empty, a deep gash that takes more time, each time, to get over.
It's sweeter to think of him on Thursdays. To remember our 14-year-old hands clasped, not knowing the future that would estrange us.
Colt has a relative he's chosen not to speak to. Whatever I think about that is irrelevant because it's his decision to make, but sometimes when he mentions she's called him recently or tried to reach out, I think of Trent and I think of Thursdays and of how sometimes holding onto memories is better than trying to claw and grab at an ever changing world. Memories can be savored, just as they were, untarnished by cynicism, fear, resentment, growing up, growing apart.
Wherever you are, hero - It's Thursday.
It's sweeter to think of him on Thursdays. To remember our 14-year-old hands clasped, not knowing the future that would estrange us.
Colt has a relative he's chosen not to speak to. Whatever I think about that is irrelevant because it's his decision to make, but sometimes when he mentions she's called him recently or tried to reach out, I think of Trent and I think of Thursdays and of how sometimes holding onto memories is better than trying to claw and grab at an ever changing world. Memories can be savored, just as they were, untarnished by cynicism, fear, resentment, growing up, growing apart.
Wherever you are, hero - It's Thursday.
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