At first I didn't recognize you yet, ironically, I called shotgun.
I was talking to you, our voices sharing familiarity.
I was holding something, something small and pointless. I never looked up.
Your hat cast a shadow over your eyes, the sun illuminating them in flicks as you drove.
I swear we could have fit into another decade, our clothes in bright colors and loud material.
You caught my attention, saying something of importance. I regret my lack of recollection.
My smile was erased and drawn into something oblong.
You grinned and squinted, keeping your peripherals on my silhouette and your stare on the horizon.
Forward, (a few fictitious decades later) you're at one end of the table, your arms are crossed.
That look never changed.
You leaned forward onto the tabletop, one arm down, one hand by your chin. Your thumb tracing your bottom lip, going side to side.
I was hopeful. You almost seemed it.
My silent interrogation.
It's a strange feeling.
It's one of those days when you wake up and the impression that your dreams have left make every moment further a matter of debating on coincidence or fate. It's when that song comes on the radio when it really shouldn't have. It's when the day goes on and you're drunk with questions and overwhelmed with possibilities. It's when that one factor sets everything up for evaluation at the end of the day.
What if my realization makes yours?
How does humanity actually work? We have it all wrong, I'm sure. We've no more room for theories and warnings, advice and experts. It's just those that need adjusting.
I'm keeping steady and I'm easing away. I'm inching closer to my promises that I've yet to carry out.
If there was ever a time I needed you more, it'd be now.
I'm sorry I can't always find the words to say, but everything I've ever known gets swept away.