Text from Caballito: “I guess you don’t want to see me anymore, right? I will stop insisting eventually don’t worry . . . ”
My companion. The smiles, the ease, the comfort and the dances– the memories remain. The words on this blog cement them. The emotions I survived, the attachment to a connection that remains unparalleled. A connection that was never intended to be more.
And a text received Sunday. I do want to see him. I feel his longing, his missing me. But my life no longer affords him a window. Perhaps, the window will reopen. But the longing is what I find most intriguing. For my emotions past written are now his.
Timing. Sliding doors. Life. And I think of S. And the Impulsive Gentlemen. And a pile of coins. Hands. Time. Options.