Wednesday, June 07, 2006

The Things We Remember

Driving is my quiet time, and it's almost guaranteed that if I'm driving, I'm thinking about Dalton.

I desperately need to remember and record everything we ever did together I know it's absurd, but our life was so full, so intense, that I can't stand the thought of forgetting it. And when the memories come, they come in rapid progression - just snippits of a feeling or a thought or a place where we enjoyed each other. I have a list in the journal of memories I want to record for Iain. Tonights contributions were the way Dalton's hand felt when he rested it on my thigh while we drove, the simple joy and complete comfort we shared sipping on coffee and eating crossiants in our room at the Embassy Suites, the fun we had at the Whiskey seeing The 88, the long conversations over breakfast at Mels on Sunset, and after dinner drinks at the Bonaventure. I fear the list is too long to record and I'm clinging to our life. It's the only one I know.


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