Friday, February 22, 2008

Until the good times come again

You remind me I live in a shell
Safe from the past and doing OK, but not very well
No jolts, no suprises
No crisis arises my life goes along as it should
It's all very nice, but not very good.

The last couple of years in the decade of the 1990s were dull and forgettable. Of course I was unhappy; I had to learn to live again from Square One and lick a lot of wounds.

My job had been affected by the very people I thought were online friends. At the end of my rope I took a transfer with a voluntary demotion for some fresh scenery and more hope

Christmas 1999 and the millenial New Year celebration were spent with friends out of state. They had a unique perspective on my little ordeal and were willing to let me continue my recovery there. I could talk whith them, and they with me without explaining anything.

Everyone looked at "THE MILLENIUM" as a major turning point in the universe. I didn't see it. I liked the idea but I'd had enough of turning points, thankyouverymuch and didn't want to build my hopes up artificially. When it came to people and relationships I believed what I saw and nothing more. Belief was for God, everyone else paid cash.

Speaking of which I spent more and more time with folks from my local parish. Being an area with many entry level jobs there were new people visiting all the time at the usual "young adult" (read: meet at the bar) activities. I was filling my time with good, positive people and experiences, as far away from music and fans as I could get. This was probably a subliminal millenial resolution - to get out and socialize. It was fun to meet new people again.

One evening I was one of three people left chatting at the end of a gathering. The others were Bob, a gawky guy a little too old for this crowd who was going to prove to you how cool he was and how much he knew, and Pete, a recent transplant from the midwest just getting established. Bob was annoying the living shit out of me and if he decided to wander into traffic I wouldn't have stopped him. Pete was OK. Average guy. GREAT blue eyes. I mean great. I've always loved blue eyes. It was 10 days past Valentine's Day.
Following week, same time, same place. Pete arrived late, obviously stressed. Why was I concerned?
Pete catches up with me at the end of the night. It sounded like a group was going to a show and would I like to join in. Hey, sure! My calendar was still open.
Three days later: Phone. "Hello?". "So what's your address again? I'd rather just pick you up."

Wait....this was a date?

My heart skipped a beat. That hadn't happened in a while.
Dinner at a cajun seafood place. Crawfish were in season. We shared a bucket of bugs and a few beers. Comparing lives - which were strikingly similar; strange considering we were from very different families in different parts of the US. But the differences dovetailed, rather than conflicted.
A week later. A walk on the beach in early spring. Warm enough to put on shorts in the city but the wind and the water made it friggin' cold.

Neither of us had fallen in love so fast in our lives.

No comments:

Post a Comment