RIP

While driving to an event this evening I got a call. It wasn’t just a call. It was the call. The one you don’t want to get. Thankfully it wasn’t in regards to my family, nor was it in regards to my friends. A man I knew years and years ago died in a car accident. A man who has always and will always reside in my heart. We spent one year together. Soon after I learned what happened I misspoke and said it was 2 or 3 but no, it was only one. That was as long as he was in the country. One year of exploration of each other with the all consuming fury of youth. One year of asking each other every question we could think of. One year of debating our beliefs. One year’s worth of conversation. One year of him teaching me to tango. One year of hearing him sing. One year of listening to his guitar. One year of laughter. One year of his smile that always, always touched his eyes. One year of plays and dances. One year of concerts and camping. One year of hiding under the table to steal a kiss. One year of hearing my name on a Spanish tongue. One year that held enough for 2 or 3. His mother told me he still talked of me. Even after all these years he still thought of me. Though I had some difficulty understanding all that she had to say, I believe she said he still loved me. She sent me his picture. He still looks the same. Looked. His is the only card in my “What if?” deck. The world has lost a genuinely good hearted person. A generous, caring, talented man for whom the glass was always half full. A man who always saw the silver lining. Or the beauty in a girl who saw none. I will never forget his sincerity when he told me his greatest wish was that I could see myself through his eyes. I only hope that he knew how he looked through mine.