missing persons

I miss you. Tonight my parents came to town. We ate dinner and talked and reminisced and they did everything in their power to avoid your name or my current heart ache. They did this because they love me and wish for my pain to end; or to at least be responsible for relieving my mind of its constant thoughts of you. Nevertheless, I brought up your name. How could I refrain? Discussing my life with them necessitates your name and our excursions and time shared. It was so hard for them to attempt changing the subject or not making a big deal of you, and my now very real loss of your presence. Either way, I miss you. I think they miss you too. Just a week shy of meeting a man they thought had stolen my heart and a man they thought they could trust being its keeper. So sad, for me, and yes, for them. They never want me to rush into anything, but truth be told, they hope for my happiness, and indeed pray for some grand babies. I wanted to write to you tonight, right now. It's taking much of my energy not to send you a quick line questioning your mental state. If you want to know mine, it's indecipherable, mottled, tragic and free. All, like me. I'll see you at work tomorrow, but Friday I will be with them, viewing photographs that you'd be so much better off narrating. They planned to meet you, fall in love with the one I love, and now, like me, my sweet parents are bruised and a little bit shattered at the illusion of you. How will they ever believe all the wonderful things I told them about you, while my face frowns? Sighs abound. Nevertheless, my Guardian Gemini horoscope could not have been more accurate. It reminded me that my heart is hurt, and told me to instead focus my energies on the folks who love me most; my folks. And with those fresh Wednesday words swirling in my head, I can depart to my dreams, and hopefully not revisit the paranoia induced nightmares that plagued my Monday night's rest. Good night mister Taylor, love ya, mean it . . . for now.