In That Alley

My fantasy lives from when I cut into that alley until I pick you up or drop you off.

In my mind, you have planted a kiss on my lips a couple of times in that tight alley. In my mind, the goodbye has lingered longer; in my mind, I have picked you up there plenty of times.

Piles of powder snow, carefully tucked onto the shoulder of the road. Tiny dunes of that snow spilling over the pavement. Cars parked on both the sides, making it impossible to pull over anywhere on that street. Somehow, all the traffic in town wants to pass through this tiny 50 yard long alley, short end of which is where your apartment is.

In my mind, I have always found a spot to put my car into park and lean towards you. In reality, you may have had one of your legs out of the door before I even come to a complete halt. Your seatbelt is off long before I cut into the alley.

In one such tight alley in my mind, my naïve, young, silly self is fighting the oncoming traffic of my worldview and mildly pessimistic self. “Have you seen how she smiles at me” is met with, “she was out of the car even before you could tilt to see her leave.” … “look it has been three hours since I met her. Time just flew by..” is countered with “She split the check and gave you that good ol ‘see you soon.’ Wake up Man.” “No, I think there is something here. It is just taking time” is answered by a silence and then the thud of the door closing after her.

She never turns. I know this because I don’t want to miss out if she does.

In one such tight alley, I have held your hand and meandered.

So if one gorgeous evening, you decide to turn around, please do.

I still will be in that tight alley.  Fighting.  Hoping.

Neo