Kids, No Chaser

A Letter to My First Love

Friday, October 20, 2006 posted by Henri

Dear L,

Its been a long time, I know. I think about that night a lot. Staring at the Pacific where San Vicente ends, the lights of the Santa Monica pier off to my left, Brentwood and the memories of the times we spent together behind us. Saying goodbye. Remember when we watched OJ on TV? He started in San Diego and we laughed and giggled as he got closer and closer to Brentwood until we realized holy shit he's actually coming home and we stood on the street to watch him pass by. I remember your soft beauty in twilight. I'd stare amazed as the cars zoomed by us on Sunset, eventually bathing us in headlights as night crawled in. I remember being young and lighting a cigarette for the bust of James Dean at Griffith with the usual band of merry idiots. I remember your passion in Summer and your patience in Winter. I remember lighting bottle rockets on the streets of Hollywood and getting hassled by the cops. I remember when I was just a little boy and staring up amazed at your heights in Downtown. I remember all those drives through Mulholland and smell of brakes when we hit PCH. I remember your secret cliffs and hollows in Malibu. I remember those drunken nights at the Viper Room. I remember the hope you offered when all seamed lost. I remember all those nights, quietly driving through your hills and streets. I remember telling you I'd only be gone for little while...which turned into years. I fell in love while I was away. I got married and have a beautiful son. I tell him little stories about you. I tell him my tale of the Spanish maiden's lost love that she held so tightly to when she died that it still beats in her long faded heart. I tell him it is this love that warms us and the real reason why winter never finds us. He's young but I think he understands. You are always in my heart. My beautiful girl, La Reina de Los Angeles.

Henri

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1 Comments:

Anonymous Matthieu Estrade said...

Thhanks for writing this

2:00 AM

 

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