What's Strange. . .

What's strange is not that I used to shake when you touched me, but that I'd forgotten about it completely. If anything, this is an ending and not a beginning and, therefore, this regression is perplexing. Maybe we should just erase all the physical ways we went horribly wrong, but does that mean I have to start out back at the beginning with you? Nervous as I drive to your house? Knees to my chest on the corner of the couch? Thoughts full of speed and hope? I blame your bed and I blame my memory - so selective in what makes a thought complete. But in my head, I'm not even there. My body is all stupid and quivering and my mind is on the other side of town. But what else can I do? This is all I know. Either nervous at the thought or regretful of the action. Maybe this is progress in that I'm trying to move us into something else. Trouble is, I don't have a lot of working models to choose from. My subconscious is sweet, in its own backhanded way. It's trying to make some changes. But I need something completely new here. New or nothing at all. And maybe this is a sign of something even stronger, because it is always right before I let go, that I hold on the hardest. Maybe I am closer to the end than I think.