The last time I physically saw you was on Rt. 3 driving a Beemer in May 2004. I had pulled up along side you at a red light thinking you were someone else and about to shout hello when I stopped short, my eyes wide, and my heart pounding as I frantically looked around me, grabbed my phone, pretended to have a conversation with someone as I slumped in my seat. Finally you got an arrow and made your U turn and the moment was over. It was a horrible moment. I was traumatized for days.
Today I drove down Gay Street and looked to my left at the shops when I realized it was you were there on the sidewalk. I actually didn't believe it was you at first and then said out loud, "Oh my God, it is." I was past you by this point but my head was computing all this information. He's with someone. Go around the block. Do I yell out the window "HEY!" and see what you do?! Do I park? I looped the block and saw you again and this time I slowed down. As much as I knew it'd be OK to stop you and run over and say hello, I didn't want to spoil your moment. I didn't want it to be weird for you. Or me. I drove off, thinking about this. I'm not sure why I needed to think...why I was making something out of nothing. It's not at all like it was years ago, afraid of running into you somewhere for fear you hated me. It wasn't that.
It may simply be that I'm OK not knowing, not being the one to reach out and trusting that things have a way of working out when they are supposed to...if they are supposed to.
"7 worlds will collide whenever I'm by your side and dust from a distant sun will shower over everyone."