Sent: 7/29/2001 1:38 AM
Okay friends. Here are the two things I want to talk to you about tonight: 1) Where is he? 2) Souls.
Let's start with number 2 because I hate it when you start with number one. Why do we have to always start with number 1? I say we start with number 2 for a change. See, I root for the underdog in that way. Okay, so Number 2 is Souls. I was just out on my fire-escape and looking off into
Lights in windows. People behind panes shaded from my view, living their own lives, lives that I really knew nothing about. The fading blue sky beyond the TV antenne from the rooftops showed the existance of our longing to know about each other. It was such a unique night. And suddenly I got this flash of a picture in my mind.
It was like I had traveled back in time for just one short instance of a memory. I was in a tractor-trailer playing in beans. Gosh, I don't know how old I was? I played in the recently harvested soybeans a lot growing up. But in this memory I looked down at my hands. And there on my . . . well, did I know the right from the left at that age, there on my right hand was the little reminder that the other one was the left. There was a little faint pink birthmark on that hand in the upperleft corner. Okay, now I'm even a little confused. Anyway, it must have meant that I was about 4 years old.
A memory from when I was 4 years old had made it's long journey back into my present memory. But, only lasting a flash of a second, before I knew it, I was back sitting on my fire escape in
1. Where is he? Alright, I'm a romantic. Cut me some slack. I've watched too many happy ending movies about dating and relationships. I BELIEVED in "Can't buy me love", you know? But somehow, I have the hope that it's possible.
I'm going to get a little deep right now. I hope you can handle it. But I keep asking myself, where is this "one" that is going to complete me. Where is this guy that I'm going to have a ball with, be best friends with, connect on such a level that we'll want to spend our lives together? Where is he? Is he hiding out in a Starbucks somewhere sipping a cafe latte? Put the damn cup of coffee down and come and find me. Where the hell are you?
I've had close to "ones". There have been a few that, for anywhere from a moment to a few months, I thought, wonder what would it be like for us to be boyfriends? Yes, some were very close "seconds". But not that "one" ("one" whatever that means).
What? Are you speaking to me? I'm typing something here. Can you please let me finish before you start butting in? Oh, wait a second, you think you're "the one"? Really? Oh. Well. Ha. I had no idea you felt that way.
Hmmmmmmm.
Let me think about this for a second, k?
You think you're "the one". Is that right? "The one." Confident are you? I see.
Well in that case, this is the way I want us to meet. I'm going to walk home from work one day, keys in hand, bebopping down the street to my apartment complex. I arrive at my gate, looking quite ... oh should I say it? ...sexy. Pulling the keys from my left hand pocket, I raise one to the door. Unfortunately it is the wrong key and revolted at my carelessness, my keys jump off the cliff of my hand to the ground. There's a clatter. I look down. There they are on the ground just below me perfectly centered in my eyesight. As I lean down to pick them up, you reach out and grab them. I notice your hand first and then I gradually take you all in.
"Did you drop these?" You say. Very clever. Ha. You knew I dropped them. Funny. "Uh, yes, I did drop these," I say a little sarcastically to acknowledge that I know that you are playing. I open my hand and you place them there softly. Then with your other hand you caress my fingertips just beyond my keys. Your hands are roughly smooth. There is a moment of silence as we look into one another's eyes. Something registers. Something, somewhere in both of us, gets up and says, "Time to punch in. Breaks over." I smile. You smile. You say, "Hi, my name is . . . .
