24 December 2015
07 September 2014
An unstructured night leads to A Bourbon, then Another, then a musical browse, then a walk down memory lane, searching for a photo. Wondering if I actually took a photo of that place where I realized my mortality, where I realized "oh shit, I could have easily died (cold ,dark, and alone) as a result... but for that moment, just by chance, by reflex, that turned the other way".
And it turned to a photo browse that took me further, to nostalgia. Thinking of friends far away, wanting to share with them. But a particular photo, and a particular friend, who in the years since has seen... well... change. Distance, time, life, family, career. I hold the memories from then as happy ones for me, and precious. But it's been a while, and change happens, ever and again. I recognize that, regardless of how lucky I am to have met her when she happened to be here for that short while, she was unhappy here, for many reasons. And now, years later, with a wife, and a son, and a gleam in her eye, that part of me that wants to share "remember back then?" loses the fight against "who am I to remind her of that time when she was so profoundly, chronically unhappy when she was here?"
I can't do that to her.
I mean... who am I? My experience was different - I was blissfully moving through days. And while I knew that she hurt, I didn't *understand* until later. And that was years ago. Time has passed. Life has gone on. She is away, I am here. Water has flowed down the river in the meantime, and the space of miles and years are in between.
In the end, regardless, I look back with fondness and love for a friend now far away, and am happy for what she has made for herself - going forth, seeking and finding.
29 July 2013
In the grand tradition of the great variety of "I like my women like I like my _____" sayings, if it please the court, I humbly add to the body of work the following...
I like my women like I like my bananas: lightly freckled and slightly twisted.
31 May 2013
... and there, in that moment, standing next to the sink, eating blue cheese and olives with a fork at 11:00pm... I realized that I had somehow become my father. Not through intent, and not in every detail.
But in a shape that was recognizable - by the time of day, location, choice of snack, and attire.