YesterdayLand

When your wife sees me in Shul, she smiles and she waves. 

I wonder how she knows who I am. 

I wonder if you told her. 

If you told her that I was supposed to be her. 

That it was supposed to be me and you against the world. 

I wonder if you told her how much I loved you. How my heart would beat to your footsteps, to your hands banging on the drums as you would sing the hallelukas. I wonder if you told her how it felt to walk in the fields and the valleys with me. How you would write me poetry in your song lyrics. 

I wonder if she can count the freckles on your skin, or when you smile, if she knows why your teeth are crooked. I wonder if she could see kindness in your eyes, and warmth in your hands.

 I wonder when you first told her you are vegan. If it was a secret that you let slip out of you, like a piece of wind escaping too early, before you knew you had her, or if you were upfront from the get-go.

I wonder if she liked those vegan restaurants as much as I did. If she laughed at your jokes the way I did, the way we did. 

I wonder if you are happy with her. 

I know I have given up my rights, that you are now someone else’s husband. But once, you were mine before you were hers. 

Once my heart would beat for you. Even when I did not want to, or did not mean to. Even when you were a little to hippy, a little too much of what I did not want, did not need 

I loved you

I am happy that you are happy, but I am still looking through the talking glass, remembering the concerts you used to bring me to. I remember how it felt like we still have forever or even one more day.

I remember how you introducing me to your friends, the way I slipped into your life so seemlessly, like I didn’t even have to think about it.

I remember your kindness, and those eyes that caught me.

Catch me I used to whisper

Catch me so I’ll never fall