There I stood amidst a crowd of out of towners and New Yorkers dying to get out of town, and I thought of him. Him. His 6 foot height. His smooth, chocolate face with neatly trimmed goatee. His masculine arms held open, inviting me into an embrace.
My imagination visualized a rekindling of sorts with the one man I truly loved. Elijah.
But that was then. Those feelings of longing and loving are long gone due to moments of clarity. I don’t want Elijah anymore. In my heart, I know our relationship would’ve eventually dismantled, our differences and incompatibility were one too many. Still, my mind envisions us, living happily and lovingly. Because of loneliness. Because it’s the last relationship I had that was real. Family involvement, honest communication, tenderness and quality and quantity time spent together. How could I not miss that?
So I allowed my imagination to soar. I stood tall, escaping from the swarm of people as the images flashed before me. Nostalgia can be healthy. It can help us appreciate our many blessings and remind us of our desires. If we don’t live in the past, that is. Unlike past reminisces I’m not running to reconnect with an old flame. I’m not looking for clues or hidden meanings because a street corner sparks a memory or a dream rises my curiosity and convinces me it means something.
So I let my imagination fly. As the sun poured over me and warm bodies continued to gather, I unleashed my thoughts and embraced the memories.
Fly, imagination, fly…