Learning to Breathe

The first time I see them, they’re laughing.

How can I hear them over the hons and screeching of cars? What are they laughing at? I try to listen to them laugh for a few minutes, trying to lull myself to sleep in that bed that just too big.

Instead, I follow their laughing to my window. They’re holding hands on the sidewalk outside the apartment complex across from me. She has long curly hair that looks like it took hours to get under control and he has a polo and jeans on, it’s the first date, isn’t it? I remember ours.

I watch them.

I don’t realize how hungry I am to see love again. Since Jordan left.

I watch until he lets go of her hands, but she kisses him. I can picture their faces, slightly embarrassed, though I’m too far to see them. The kiss doesn’t last for longer than a few moments and when they separate, she runs inside her apartment, obviously laughing.

He stands for a few moments, his hands in his pockets. He’s probably smiling, maybe a little red. Then, he turns and walks down the sidewalk.

Did Jordan do that?

Stand there, love-struck with a smile before walking back home. I guess it doesn’t matter anymore. That was back when it was us.

Now, it’s just me.