Remembering an Ex on a Cellular Level

Not only is it Valentine’s Week, but during this exact time, last year is when I flew across the country to be greeted with a dozen roses by my long-distance soul mate at the San Jose airport.

But here I am, in NYC, and it’s been months since we’ve been apart. I thought I was over him when we broke up over the Summer until this morning, when I lifted up my window curtains and caught the sun’s glare. Only, its bright light painfully reminded me that everything isn’t always what it seems as its rays of sunshine beamed across a cold, snow covered 30 degree Winters day. Nostalgia brought me back 365 days ago, when I left the brisk chill of that moment to enter into a new reality — in Northern California.

All of those old emotions resurfaced as if I had traveled back into time. The excitement of packing my suitcase, making sure I brought my “pretty” panties with me, and pouring at least one week’s worth of fancy feast into my kitty’s food bowls.

I didn’t realize how this season could trigger emotions on such a deep cellular level. How in the world could one day bring me back to a place from so long ago? We’d broken up nearly 6 months prior to these emotions flooding back in, but all it took was the smell of cold wind and melted snow amidst city streets, and the feeling of how it all began to resurrect a lost love.

It’s easy to remember all of the good times while blocking out the bad, especially when you’re being reminded of how you first met. It’s as if spirit wanted me to reconnect with him, or was my mind playing tricks on me? I called him to quench my curiosity.

Hearing his voice over the phone unlocked parts of my subconscious brain that had his memory tucked away in darkness. Suddenly, what was sleeping in the back of my mind had awakened to the front of my pineal gland. As physically far away as he was, speaking into his mobile device, I’d felt as if he was standing right in front of me again, heart beating for the woman he once loved, flesh and blood.

The memories of walking up his ivory carpet-covered steps and into his music room to hear him play guitar felt as real as today — as if I’d never left his house. We were both there, the two of us sitting across from each other as he look down at his instrument, strumming his fingers across the acoustic chords that echoed a melodic melody. He then looked back up to watch how I followed his tune. A blushing smirk adorning his face.

Our minds are so powerful. Our five senses, and even six senses. Something I thought I’d forgotten had reemerged like the promise of a sunrise. I struggled for an entire week, wishing that we would’ve lasted to at least celebrate our one-year anniversary. Feeling obsessed, ashamed, jealous, and defeated, I battled all of the negative thoughts inside of my head that made me feel like a failed girlfriend. Who else was he loving now? Who else was he playing music for? Who else was he kissing?

I knew better than to regret the past, but my lower nature got the best of me for the entire week. Last year, during this exact same time in February, he’d wrap his big bear arms around my little waste, providing safety and comfort within his warm embrace.

Except, what’s really happening right now, is that my delicate fingertips are tapping lonely letters across a keyboard from my NYC apartment; in a completely different environment that is my true, home sweet home. But you know what they say, “Home is where the heart is.” And my heart still holds a place for him, on a cellular level.

As long as I’m breathing, new cells will emerge, and the oceanic sea saltwater from next Summer’s adventures will outshine last Winter’s loss — because the world keeps on turning, the music keeps on playing, and love keeps on loving. That’s life.