a freezing fog had come and gone before i woke, leaving white footprints over the morning: grass that crunched under foot, solid white car windows, a spider web thickly crystalized on the railing. it didn’t smell like snow, but almost. it could. it could be soon. even in oregon, even in alabama.
and i remember a morning in bed, back in birmingham, watching the snow fall, the window directly in front of us full of static. cold, we stayed wrapped up under the covers. i read the paper and he flipped through a book filled with pictures of paris.
clear skies with a chance of snow. i want one of those mornings with adam. i want to wake up with him and see flurries, to decide it’s too dangerous to go into work, to drink coffee and stay in bed. i want the day to be so quiet, the city stopped by magic. i want to re-live all these memories with this man who i now love.
having dated adam for a while, memories that were once cherished and meaningful and beautiful to me have changed. moments that i once lamented as lost, times i would have gladly lived again, i now want to re-edit with adam in that picture. these reminiscences have turned sour and i question how happy i had been, how much i loved any moment. i wonder if i had just been delusional or naive.
this is unfair to my memories and to the people that i loved. adam and i won’t eat sesame tofu at my favorite chinese restaurant in birmingham. i’m not even vegetarian anymore! but we do search portland for good chinese restaurants and authentic chinese dishes. recently adam introduced me to dan dan mien, thick spicy ground beef over noodles like spaghetti. adam can’t coo in french with me but teaches me mandarin, the tones awkward and stilted as they come out of my mouth, my throat hoarse from strangling the 3rd tone.
adam and i might miss the snow. the weather report threatens snow tomorrow but we won’t wake up together. tonight, i’ll sleep at my house, take care of my cat who has become listless and sad because of the cold weather. we’ll wake up separately and go to work. and tomorrow after work we might warm ourselves with whiskey, bundles up against the un-snowy cold.