2,390 miles from home, in a small dilapidated town hidden in the mountains of Nevada, I found you, dressed in red floral and rose petal heels, the soft incandescence of the barroom light illuminating the abyss of your eyes. You sit beside me, left leg over right, and smile. The taste of your ice-tea-and-lemonade breath fills the air as you laugh and take my hand in yours; I think we are both a little surprised to see each other. Our conversation plays out like the scene of a movie before you lead me down the long corridor to your room.
You smile like you are singing to me, your voice trespassing into sacred spheres as I watch your delicate fingers strum the melody of Iris on your little guitar. Like light, you invade the body in every way imaginable, see me at my most vulnerable. I guide a strand of hair from your eyes and hide it behind the warmth of your neck; she is beautiful, I think to myself, beyond what words, music, or poetry can describe.
As people, I think we are so often weighed down by the burden of who we pretend to be; we so desperately want to be seen, to be heard, to be understood. We fight for moments where we can be honest and open. Laying there beneath the weight of Cora’s body, holding the frame of her chin in my hand, staring into the gentle twinkle of her eyes, I begin to feel what I have been searching for.
All I have ever wanted is to be honest, to be understood. I found in you, Cora, what I needed for myself. Something for me which transcends the ecstasy of your smile. The world is full of beautiful women; but there is no one in the world as beautiful as you.
The real tragedy is this; you will miss her. You will miss her and you won’t even know her. You will wonder what her smile looks like against a sunset, what her hand feels like in yours driving down the long interstates of Nevada. Like air, she will fill you, sustain you, and breathe life into your body. Like music, she will whistle her way through the strands of your hair as you drive away from Sheri’s ranch, fighting every fiber in your body not to turn back and spend one more moment looking into her eyes.
Cora - I would bleed to know that the moments with you were real when they felt so imaginary. You reminded me what it was I lost.. Reminded me that the tender and affectionate moments that make life worth living still exist. Where the world knows so little about me, you know so much. I will never forget you.
Your future neurosurgeon