I saw you on Saturday night on the Q train on my way home from Queer Memoir. The theme had been "Friends, lovers, and exes" so I thought it was aprapo that I would see you at that particular moment, because you were all of those things to me and so much more.
You were reading a book about vampires, had a shaved head, and no tattoos, but I knew it was you. You got off at my stop, and I wanted to say something so bad. I wanted to touch your arm-- so bare without its tattoos-- and remind you of how you used to be so embarassed by your one forearm that was bare. I wanted to laugh with you about how you used to stand with your arms crossed in all pictures, so as to hide it. I wanted to remind you of that one picture with Freewind and Sua'lape, and how you were so annoyed that you had forgotten to cover your tattoo-less arm. How strange it is that as a ghost, you returned to me with no tattoos... even your hands were bare, so I almost didn't notice you at all.
But how could I miss you with those round cheeks and that happy smile? You looked so happy reading about vampires and I wondered if you used to like vampires when you were alive, or if it was just in death that you embraced the undead with a giggly smile. I wondered what kind of subway rider you would have been. Would you have read, or listened to music, or just sat there staring out the window? I wondered about that and so much more as I tried to stare at you without being too obvious as the train made its way over the East River and into Brooklyn.
Most of all, I noticed that spot-- the one on your chest that fit my head perfectly. I noticed that it was still there, so I wanted to embrace you before we parted ways. I wanted to drown in one last hug, because I didn't know the last one was the last one when it happened. I wanted to have that moment to do over right there on the Q train at the Parkside stop.
Instead we parted ways silently and without contact, and I walked slowly home, wondering if I would see you again soon...