Lines I Wrote - or - As Yet Unpublished... Wait... Fuck... Now I Need A New Second Title

"You don't know what you are missing."

"I don't know what I got."

"I believe you. Are you ever coming back?"

"We shall see." Just as the words left her lips she did the unforgivable. She smiled. Maybe it wasn't a full smile, maybe it was a shrug and a smile simultaneously, but to me it couldn't have hurt more if she used a sledge hammer. How dare she smile now. At me. Like this? I didn't have a choice, my mind had already blurted out the words, my mouth just followed suit.

"No. No we won't. You might see it, and I might see it, but I think that this, this right here, you and me, this creek and this moon, that half dead tree and this big rock with it's obvious examples of bad penmanship, this is the last thing that we will ever see. You are right, you don't know what you got. And I can promise you that you don't know what you are missing."

That was when I turned my back and walked off. It suddenly occurred to me that I might be color blind. Tomorrow I'll know for sure. Tomorrow I'll look at that mess of dots again and guess what number is hiding behind them. No matter what I see on that test card, I don't know if I'll ever see her again. I'm not sure what kind of blindness they call that, but it stings a lot more than not being able to tell the difference between green and red.