Dear Miranda

Dear Miranda,

Today it rained, and I smelled you. Sometimes I wonder if I’m going crazy, feeling you in everything. Do you think of me when you step in a wood and smell trees? When you feel the edge of your cashmere sweater and remember when I kissed you under the stars? Maybe you don’t. I understand if the memory of me blurs at the edges. It’s been awhile.

~Jack

Dear Miranda,

Today I saw a train and I thought of you. You liked the way the sounds of trains and the little booths we sat in. I feel like I have to remind you of things, to keep your world from going gray. My world’s going a little gray right now.

~Jack

Dear Miranda,

Today I drove past a field of wildflowers and I saw you. You were twirling, flowers woven through your golden hair. You saw me and smile, beckoning me to come closer. I came, Miranda. But you ran too fast, and I lost you.

~Jack

Dear Miranda,

Today I went to the lake and I heard you. You were crying. I went to find you, to comfort you, to set your world straight again, but I couldn’t find you. I searched all around the bank. I heard you though, weeping. Your sobs no longer run through my head, but the echoes of your pain stay with me.

~Jack

Dear Miranda,

Tonight I’ll see you again. I am going out to the lake and my pockets will be full of rocks. I need to see you, to stop the cries that still ring in my ears. Tonight I will see you again, and we’ll pick wildflowers. You will smell like rain and I will smell like trees, and our hurt will be forgotten.

~Jack