I Think of You
For the Yous, the Someones, and the Somebodies
I think of you.
It feels silly to say so. Always thinking about some ‘you’ somewhere. Some ‘you’s. Some ‘you’s. Someone. Somebody. Some body.
The newspapers all say there is a loneliness epidemic. There is. The statistics say we’re isolated in simple and complicated ways. We are.
But I try to hold on to every “I think of you” as some little cosmic moment of connection.
So, I think of you.
I think of you when my fingers automatically type the web address of some social media site I no longer log into.
I think of you when it is the mistiest of rains, the kind that posits but does not stick.
I think of you when the weather is an indescribable color.
I think of you when I see tourists stumble from their hotels into the visibly radiating heat.
I think of you when I gracefully and artfully dodge an abrupt stop, the only time I could be called ‘graceful’ and ‘artful’ about anything.
I think of you when the words ‘superfluous,’ ‘boiling’ and ‘yesterday’ cross my mind.
I think of you when I’m in public, vainly smug about flipping through a physical book, the pages leaving dusty residue on my fingertips.
I think of you when I look up from my book and all the surrounding benches are empty.
I think of you when I walk by scores of windows, avoiding the misremembered reality of my passing reflection.
I think of you when I read about ghosts.
I think of you when I stand on the subway, lightly holding the pole to stabilize myself only when I absolutely need to.
I think of you when I switch train cars, running from myself more than anyone else.
I think of you when I’m in an automobile. Every time.
I think of you when I stand still on an escalator and you, when I walk up the quick moving steps, following the prescribed path forward.
I think of you when I imagine my grandmothers’ wedding dresses having afternoon tea in the eaves of a large closet.
I think of you when I am reciting the alphabet backwards, trying to lull myself to sleep.
I think of you when that one song comes on but only if I am walking around a particular part of the city at a particular time of day.
I think of you when someone walks by, yelling into their phone, making plans loud enough for the entire street to hear.
I think of you when I think of the screensaver from Windows ‘98 at the same time.
I think of you when I am running verbal intellectual circles around someone in my mind but bite my tongue instead.
I think of you when I’m not sure what to say.
I think of you when I’m writing a postcard. But not you, to whom the postcard is addressed.
I think of you when I pick up my favorite pen and the pen deigns not to write a single word.
I think of you religiously. I think of you secularly. I try not to think of you when it hurts too much. I try not to think of you when it fills me with indescribable joy. I try.
I think of you
I think of you
And then the thought is gone.
hello.
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