Imagine Me and You

"Me and you and you and me, 

No matter how they toss the dice, it has to be

The only one for me is you, and you for me

So happy together...."

-"Happy Together," The Turtles

You date someone. Things are going well, very well, you know where it is headed. You love him (or her), and you know he (or she) loves you, and a picture begins to form: The two of you, together, married, with children, jobs, a house. You picture your life together, and you see it all. 

Then, it is over. No longer is there "the two of us." Your lives are now separate, no longer so intertwined, no longer dependent on the other. But the picture you had of your life together? That is still there. You still see it sometimes, especially in the beginning. It is like a movie that keeps repeating in your head; sometimes it is just one scene, other times, it is many. But as time goes on, the movie fades, and you are just left with a scene or two. It is those few that play in your head occasionally long after the relationship is over, after you both have moved on.

I mention this because I did this; I do this. Still. I still sometimes get those short scenes in my head, imagining a future that I know is no longer possible, a future I that I have let go. It is not something I want to picture anymore. It makes me feel like I am clinging to the past, like I am wishing and hoping for something that I know will never happen. Yet, sometimes I cannot help it. They are just there, at random moments, playing in my head. Like an old, sentimental movie that I just cannot seem to say goodbye to, but know I have to.