Monday, February 14, 2011

My Valentine

I still remember the exact moment I saw Cindy. On the deck of a beach-side bar. We used to joke about the silly games of that first night. My green drink. Her attempts to get my attention. My complete naivete'.  Pearl Jam's Black. Dancing until sunset. Somewhere, I still have the slip of paper where she wrote her phone number. I called the next day. And the next. And the next. Aging memories. She used to think they were so cute. Or romantic.

My Valentine for eighteen years. But I'm still naive. And frightened. And confused. I just hide it better. But I've long since given up on those green drinks. And that bar is gone. We only have our memories of it. And of that first, wonderful night.
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