Out of Focus

I’ve never been great at throwing things. I always did it with too much force in the wrong direction or too little force that never got the object where it was supposed to be. I took it as a sign to never take up sports.

Clearly my hand-eye coordination is pathetic so there’s a bunch of other things I had to scratch off the list. But I still like to fantasise about it.

I still like to imagine our moments together, you laughing at something ridiculous I said, me wishing I didn’t say it but happy that it got you to laugh. I still like to imagine you tolerating my lack of aim when you ask me to throw you something and then you shaking your head when I fail miserably.

I still think about you because there’s a lot of good associated with you and I don’t want to let that go yet. But everything is coming full force at me to pull all of that out of my hands. It’s all coming at me to bury you under layers and layers of time, but you were always like a light, piercing the dark even when you annoyed me.

My mind’s eye may be losing focus, but I’ll never forget the silhouette of you.

Kassy_Lu