signing off
I. It was dinner time when I wrote him a note. Pulled out a pen and covered one, two sky-colored sticky notes front and back with neatly printed marks. You’re a great friend to have. Stay in touch. Phrase it as a fact, write it as an order. Finally finding the courage in my quick-beating heart to be upfront, straightforward -- a heady rush of newfound strength. To approach, but not to ask if he feels the same, and never to know what might happen if he did. (Cover it all up in friendship terms, can’t let on, can’t let go.) II. Sometimes he’ll give a smile, sometimes hey, how are you. Sometimes a hug. Sometimes not even a pale blue glance. Scan the room, find him, anticipation rising... and I feel the drop, the b u m p ...