Coffee and Daydreams

Oh, I get poked too. From time to time. Here and there. Little things that are so subtle sometimes that it passes me by until a moment seizes me and freezes time. Then, I am transported back to you. I remember glimpses, flashes, and feelings mostly. I remember the thoughts and the unquestioned possibilities from a different time. But I am in a forgiving state now. Forgiving to myself, to you. To all the little failures between us. To all the wishes that never had a chance to lift off. To the love that didn't stand a chance. It was real, wasn't it? I've learned to detach myself so well that I often wonder if I didn't imagine half of it all. But you're there--poking me. Telling me things that are not hardly ever possible now. But it's worth a smile to read. And to understand where it's all coming from.