thank you for convincing me.

The days and activities of this weekend in Los Angeles/San Diego have blended into a mess of colors. Blue occupies most of the scenes. The sky turning from blue to gray along the hiking trail. The ocean and the waves as I tried to surf for the very first time or as I got yet another sunburn. The lights flickering over the audience at the Flaming Lips show.

Even through the darkness, I could see the blue in the comforter, the pink in the pillows, the dark of your arms against the lightness of my own.

And then our faces go from smiles to serious and we let go again and I'm okay this time and along the edge of the sidewalk, all I am is thankful that you are alive.

As I think of my time away, the pavement rushes past me in long stretches of infinite gray, yellow lines blurring into each other, into the ground, into the dirt. I try to recall each individual day, but I only see colors. When I sleep tonight and the world goes all black for a few hours, I'm sure you'll come back to me more vividly and, if I'm lucky, I'll feel your arms instead of merely associating them with caramel and chocolate wafers. Yes, that would be nice. Though I like the simple delicacy of the latter as well.