Sensory Affectation

Confounded. Conflicted. Confusing. Converse. Conversate. I feel the ache. Here. Here and here. In all those places that are not my places. In all those places that used to have faces. I feel. I feel and let it pass. Off. Away. Not mine. Like someone knocking on my door. I choose. And I let the thoughts flow. I let them go where they will. I say, I'm happier than I ever have been in my life....but...but I still miss you. True. Nothing to do. What can I say? This is true. I miss you in all those places and spaces where you still reside from within. You are a lingering, intangible, fluid sensory affectation. I am affected. Can't help but to be affected. Effected. Respected. Walking along this journey that is my life, my life this time, I am moving forward. I am moving forward but reflecting on where I have been. This path that I walk is not a complicated one. It is one I've paved and paved and paved for years and now I reap the benefits. And I think of you. I think of our conversations....uncountable conversations spanning a decade and they float and flow around and merge into one conversation....the conversation that was US. It feels like a well loved book reads. It feels like a well loved book is remembered...the favorite bits, the more meaningful bits, come to me it snippets of emotion and impression. I know this book so well that I don't need to pull it down off the shelf every single time I think of a passage. It's just there....always there. Words rise unbidden, as they always have, when I focus on you. Words and concepts, an attempt to convey something of the depth from where I feel, emerge, merge, have merged with you, because of you, for you, through you and I transmit this form of gratitude to you through the most powerful means in my possession.