Small things.

11:00 a.m.
18th Street, The Mission, San Francisco, California

When I walked back by an hour later, all the I love you, toos were gone.
The rest of my walk home I imagined what people might be doing with the little slips of paper.

  • Bookmark? (I had just bought a book.)
  • Writing down a phone number? Address? (A potential mixed message.)
  • Putting it in a scrapbook? (Someone’s SF memento?)
  • Burning it in angry effigy? (I hear people do this.)
  • Practicing saying the words? (Sometimes this can be hard. I practice on my cat.)
  • Holding it up to a window to see who noticed? (Very art school.)
  • Putting it in an old-fashioned letter? (But, email…)
  • Dropping it on the ground one block later? (The moment passed.)
  • Forgetting it on the table with the shopping? (It is small.)
  • Inadvertently placing it in someone else’s bag. (Then they would wonder.)

I don’t suppose it matters really. The harder part is saying it first.

And that was still there.

About Amanda

I am repatriating expatriate trying to work it all out. Well, to work some of it out anyhow. I am writing here for sanity, focus and general over-sharing.
This entry was posted in art, California, San Francisco, true stories and tagged , , . Bookmark the permalink.

4 Responses to Small things.

  1. kelly says:

    That’s delightful. I cannot wait to come and visit.

  2. Ruth says:

    Thank you for this, Amanda. Great post. Last winter I didn’t have the courage to say it or even know it….. and the person died before I could tell him. Yeah, that fucking shit actually happens in real life, not just the movies. The whole complication of realizing how I felt and the fear I had in admitting it completely snuck up on me. I thought I was more mature than that, more enlightened. Ugh.

    Your post is both sweet and poignant. And the photo is gorgeous.

    • Amanda says:

      Ruth… in following your writing there have been so many times I wanted to ask you about what happened. I suppose really, the details are less important… I go on knowing that even when I thought people didn’t know how I felt about them, it turns out, they probably did….

      And maturity and enlightenment? Pffft. Just glimpses of ideas we can catch now and then.


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