Those may only seem like two words but when they come from someone you were intimate with, someone you talked to all the time. Someone you shared fears and dreams with, those two words are so much more. A blast text that was probably sent to a hundred people makes you simply, “someone that I used to know.”
You think about what she’s cooking, how she probably stayed up all night to make sure it was perfect. You think about what she’s wearing and how it’s going to be sexy enough to frame her curves but classy enough because she’s around family.
It’s two words that are supposed to mean, “Have a good day,” or “eat plenty of turkey and dressing.” But instead those two words mean, “You’re just someone I used to know.”
You wonder who she’s calling to talk about how excited she is about Black Friday sales. You wonder who she has tasting the food to make sure it’s good. You wonder who stayed up with her while she was cooking because even though she hates to admit it; she hates being alone during the Holidays.
When the BlackBerry lights up and you see it’s a text from her you wonder if she’s asking you about your family or wanting to bring you a plate. You wonder if she wanted to know whether or not you miss her. But instead all you see is, “Happy Thanksgiving.”
Memories fade over time.
Romantic moments become pictures in a Facebook album or in a closet in a box.
Texts are deleted and the heart opens up to someone else.
But a couple times a year, there will always be the “Happy Thanksgiving” text of the world that remind you that on this day you’re alone. The only thing keeping you company is your words, your imagination, your memories and your bottle.
Because for as much as family loves you, the only substitute for a woman’s touch is another woman’s touch.