I still dream of her. I wish I could get a good enough look at her face and it be burned into my memory. Maybe I'll remember her face better.
You know on movies and what not, when there a couple of teens and they're learning what puppy love is, and the scene shows him staring and him absolutely melting into the stare right. And then they pan over to her, she's the proverbial definition (I think I worded that correctly) but the proverbial definition of glowing, and there's a slight breeze and it's blowing her hair a tad bit, and she's having a conversation and she's happy and smiling right, that's how I see her. If I could paint her with accuracy, I would. I'd cherish it for the rest of my life.
There was a while ago, a time I slept 19 hours. And during that 19 hours, I lived an entire life with her. On a ranch out in Western Wyoming. She was the sweetest fire cracker you'd ever meet. Soft spoken but more stubborn than a mule. And she could cook. I would have bet on her against a Michelin star chef.
We never had little ones, she wasn't able to carry. We tried and failed alot. It always made her depressed. Me, I always took my sadness and depression out on the creeks and lakes. Out there, nobody can hear your screams and cries. We never fell out of love, we just both went cold inside. We stopped trying after about 10 years of nothing but failures. It also was taking a toll on her body and I did not want to lose her.
We would go on adventures.
One adventure we went on was to a large abandoned shopping mall. Turns out the lower levers were flooded and riddled with sink holes with excellent fishing. We got lost in there for about a week. Best week we ever spent together.
One day she'll come back to me.
