mandalay

letter to todd

ten years ago, we were sitting on the mall in DC watching fireworks explode over the washington monument. we were sixteen. i was the kind of girl who wore black on valentine's day, and purple lipstick and blue mascara with regular abandon (to my mother's chagrin). you were unlike any guy i'd known before. you had an infectious laugh and way of talking straight through it and the most beautiful green eyes i'd ever seen.

that summer was the best and worst i've ever had and i wouldn't trade it for anything. riding the bus folded into each other; tearfully acknowledging what was to come under a tree our last day of the trip; making every opportunity to see each other again; making out in the back of my oldsmobile; having your mother answer the phone and tell me how sad you were, that you wouldn't leave the house and she often found you crying; spending an entire family beach vacation lying in bed, writing poetry and listening to sarah mclachlan's "surfacing" album; and that last day i saw you, the day princess di died, and we both knew that school was starting and how could we see each other again? and mary drove me back to midland and i laid in the backseat and cried while "everlong" played on the radio.

it was the first time i'd been in love. i felt like i'd been cracked open, like there was this whole other existence possible. that summer was when my poetry became visceral, when i found that i had a way of observing and translating. todd, you were the one that brought me to poetry. to myself. i have loved several men since you. and i don't know that we would ever have come together at another time. but i just wanted to take a moment, ten years after the fact, and say:

i'm glad we did.

Labels: before

posted by amanda @ 8:31 AM