Blue Dress Under the Sun

In the bar, I patted my friend on the shoulder and left. She is a supporter of Germany--simply because she want to see Germany play Brazil, many people support the host country because of that reason.

I don't understand that. Soccer to me is a loyalty thing.

I walked out of the bar to go back to the office. The sun is bright and it is a beautiful day in New York. I walked along Madison Avenue on the east side of the street. I had my sunglasses on. My eyes were filled with tears, walking on the street that is so familar to you and I, for knowing that I won't be seeing my beloved team at this game, or you.

Then I worked attentatively for another 3 hours to make up for the sneaking out, then I was chatting with my co-worker who is showing me his photos of London, another city that I deamed of going.

Then I heard some baby's voice and the voice of J. Then I know they are here. The babies you are so close to. The baby that when he was born, we loved each other the most.

I rushed out and saw them. The beautiful boy with such large blue eyes and the red sox outfit. I knelt down infront of his cart. He looked at me, checking me out. He then smiled. Both of his hands were holding his juice bottle first and the he reached out to touch me with one hand, the tender hand that have touched you. I wanted to hold him. My eyes got moisted. But I had to hide my feelings.

I did not see their mother, a great woman, from what I heard from you and our brief exchange of emails.

It breaks my heart to see them. It breaks my heart to miss you so much and can not see you. To see them is like to remember the cute conversation we had on the street of Lexington on a winter night: "You know we could have beautiful babies like that too."

They were lost in the wind, in this sunny beautiful day when I walked home, my eyes teary behind those sun glasses, for my team, for the beatiful babies, for promises and dreams lost, for heart hur, for your remaining unseen, for distance and silence, for no longer knowing.

Yet it is the beautiful day of summer, sad people should be shamed.

I was wearing this beautiful blue dress. I thought that you saw me wearing it years ago, when we were not close yet, you must have liked it, even you won't remember it. I wish I wore it more when we saw each other regularly. We never had a summer together. It makes me feel sad to think about it.

Yet I remember the portrait your friend did for you, before I even saw it, I asked: Is there color blue in it? You said: how do you know?

Then you sent me the email she sent you: I saw the blue in you. I am glad I have it.

We both saw the blue in you. I may not have loved you well, but I do know you, and love you for what I know.