Rendezvous
09 December 05 : 07.08 PM
I'm walking home alone again. It's a pretty, soft-looking day, and dusk isn't warm and glowing, it's blue-christmas shimmering like an ocean in the sky. From the overhead bridge that I am on, I see into the distance and a majestic deluge of clouds whitewash the sky like a storm. I see the clouds in the distance, not above, but in the distance, the way you find a rainbow's end, and the sky's not violent tonight.
I see an old couple holding hands and walking hurriedly. I wonder if they're still in love, or in a comfortable routine that neither wants out of for that exact reason. I'm walking and Shakespeare says hi, and God Bless, and I smile the most sincere smile I've got.
In an hour or two, I'll be out of my house. I'll be where people surround like stars in the sky and I can't appreciate all that anymore.
I sat out on the lawn last night, talking to Raymond on the phone while looking at the sky. We talked about eight months ago, and we talk about what had hurt him then and I think about what had made me happy then, without saying it out loud. I dream too much.
I see the stars that I see every other night, yet I don't recognise most of them. See that red star, see the cluster of little stars, see Orion's belt, see maybe you'll find a pattern and find your way home that way.