This is the only picture of us there is. Shot by a drunken friend in a shitty Oakland bar the New Years you came to visit me and my ex-boyfriend got alcohol poisoning and and I choose to take care of him instead of be with you. Sorry about that.
Neither one of us drank. The next day we walked to Chinatown and you bought astragalus and made me tea without offering my friends any. You acted protective of me and I both enjoyed and itched against it.
We wandered around the mission and you told me about your brother and your hometown and how your friends made fun of you by saying that you looked like your mom dressed in your dad’s clothing. You seemed to remember everything I had ever said to you. You’d been watching me much more closely than I’d realized.
There are so many things that never happen. So many possible roads we never get to taste. I called you up recently to see about visiting. You had a girl you were dating and we got off the phone. Some things come and go and some things land like a seed. They dig down roots and sprout up a stalk so no matter how the current of time moves you forward, you’re always looking back trying to catch a whiff of the flower you never got to smell.