She'd spent years tracing over the unfinished tattoo on his back with her fingertip. He said it was the abstract outline of a scorpion (his sign), but she couldn't see it. To her, it was just a bunch of lines and shapes creating a mural across his smooth, freckled skin. Something she could stare at for hours...get lost in; hypnotized by.
Though she thought of him often, it was these small details that seemed to have completely dissipated with time, only to be brought back into her consciousness quite suddenly and painfully as she innocently stroked the soft, taught skin of a new lover's back while lazing around in bed on a recent morning.
A cool breeze blew through the open window and across her bare legs that early June morning and she could hear the solemn coo of a mourning dove outside. It was over. She'd known for awhile, but it wasn't until last night that he had agreed. It was alright...it was never meant to last in the first place. What began as two friends scratching a mutual itch, had developed into feelings. Love, even. But, nothing so strong as to cloud her judgement or make her think this was something it wasn't.
Still, she was sad. It's easy to grow accustomed to having someone around. Easy to get used to their smell, their sounds, their presence. To subconsciously file away information about them so that for years afterward, a certain line from a movie, type of food, or brand of shampoo will still remind you of them........
