I was browsing Grindr out of boredom when I saw your face. I knew it would be a matter of time before you came back to town. It was exactly the same smile, the same hairstyle (even though you attempted to change it a couple times throughout the year), the same shorts and t-shirt, that boyhood t-shirt. All in all, you still looked charming and witty as ever.
The only difference is that things are put under an entirely different light now. My heart doesn’t skip one odd beat like it used to seeing your toothless grin. My brain doesn’t take me for a ride on the time machine to the night you made me yours. My chest doesn’t feel the anguish from the aftermath of the Yangon adventure. My lips no longer long for the honey dripping from your lips.
But what about the music? Will I be able to finish those songs? Melodies have been molded, ache has been poured, all it takes is this little extra kick, to put me in the same place again so that I could mourn your departure properly with the words I create.
And also, I wonder if in the next few years, when you finally reach your late 40s, you will still be wearing that same colorful car t-shirt. Grow up, George.