Saturday March 31, 2012
Him and Me
I close my eyes, and the past become vivid again. Memories replay themselves in my mind like film. I am seven years old, in a pink sundress. I grab the plastic chains of the swing and squeal as my dad pushes me to the tops of the clouds; I reach, pretending I can fly. My father laughs. I smile. 
I am ten years old, getting dressed to go to the father daughter dance. I walk down the stairs, my hair curled and lip gloss on. I feel beautiful. My dad smiles at me and beams. I smile too. 
I am eighteen years old, on a run through the park. The sun is scorching and sweat drips down my back. My run has turned into a walk; I feel the bite in my side, and burn of my legs, and scream of my lungs. The park is beautiful today, spring has come: the flowers have bloomed, the birds are out, and the trees are full of life. I close my eyes and pretend my dad is there with me. As we walk we talk about life. I see his smile. I hear his stories. Its like he is there right by my side, like he never left, like nothing ever changed. We walk together for hours him and me. I rest in the solace that there will always be "him and me" that although everything has changed....nothing has.