I’ve been meaning to get back in touch with him for the longest time.
But the last several years have been particularly busy, what with work and all. And the daily commute. That takes a lot out of a guy.
It’s been a while since we just sat quietly and thought about the old days when vigor, and hormones, and a full head of hair were enough to convince ourselves that we had forever to find our way. But really, who would have cared if we hadn’t?
I think that a lot of the space between us over the years has been both calculated and practical. A choreographer’s way of tiptoeing around the white elephant in the room. The one that won’t sit there forever.
I guess times like this allow the lost contemplatives in us to shimmy back up to the surface, looking to pose those nagging but phony questions about loss, and failure, and final accountings.
At least that’s what I’ve been telling myself as I settle in to get reacquainted with the last person on earth that I expected to see tonight.
But mirrors are sometimes like that.
Copyright (TZampino) 2020
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