Of All The Gin Joints

I wish it was a gin joint. And in black and white. That would have been dramatic. It was just a chapel though. Not dramatic. And we were in colour. Well you were in black and white mostly. But in a way when I turned and saw your handsome face it was like a movie, a really lame one no one would watch, but a movie none the less. Your timing is impeccable. Of course today would be the day I see you. The one connection on this continent to the boy I have tried so hard to forget. Thanks for the slap in the face. Just kidding. It was a warm embrace.

It is strange how fate plays its hand. Yes, I do believe in fate. I believe in something so much greater than me. I know there is a plan much grander than my thoughts of whether or not to run tomorrow. I know someone sees a picture larger than my tiny little viewfinder that only sees the little pictures one at a time when I put in the disc and click from one to another. And fate probably isnt the right word but I accept that fact and use it anyways.

So there you were. The tiny thread that somehow ties it all together. You remind me how much I miss him. It just shocked me that this weekend happened to be the one you show up after well over a year. The weekend I find myself thinking of our mutual friend. I feel like someone up there is having a chuckle over my confusion and wonder at what the heck is going on. First it is in my head, then there are humans. Next thing you know I will be knocking on your door, on the other side of the world, in a place I left a long time ago. I think I am realizing I have to go back and find real closure. Or maybe not closure, maybe I just miss a place that was my home for so long. That seems reasonable. How could I not find my mind flooded with memories when I actually see someone real that knows about anything I miss so much. Maybe this all makes more sense than I thought.