Christopher. ( my hippie)
All i could think about today was your skinny legs and all that pot and the way you were so fucking confident about everything. You were always barefoot and shirtless unless you were forced otherwise. Our romantic late night drunken conversations of moving to mexico, before I really did wake up in mexico (or discovered Paris). Agreeing that adventure and tipping well was much more important than having the perfect apartment. Our shared admiration of "On the Road" and how it was your bible too. Big windows without blinds and how you always preferred the sun and heat to the rain and clouds I favored , although i loved but how brown our skin would get after endless hours in the back yard. Sitting around and laughing , drinking merlot , you smoking, waiting for your roomate to get home from that vintage store she worked at, so we could eat veggie burritos. Her dreads always made me feel a little sick (I felt guilty about that). We looked so much alike, and I would contemplate wearing a pony tail but it made me look so fucking stupid. We thought it was so funny when people would mistake us for each other and start up conversations not realizing I wasn’t you.(it happened for years before we ever met) The sound of Sugar magnolia and Uncle Johns band over and over and over. Peanut Butter always wanting to crawl into bed with us, even though it was always so hot and I worried that the bed maybe wasn't washed as often as it should be. How I lost him and the neighborhood wondering why we kept screaming "Peanut Butter!", (not knowing it was a dog) thinking we were stoners. Looking back on it, I think I was happy, but losing the dog made me doubt everything, and you knew exactly what was happening when we found him and I said goodbye. It wasn’t without sadness or lament but we both knew that hippie bullshit wasn't really my deal.