He looks to the left, a quick pause to check the commotion.
There’s shouting crying out on the street. Stomping boots,
signs in hand. It’s another day, another protest, nothing to
worry over. She questions him, “What’s happening?” It
could be anything, or nothing at all. They want attention
and this is the day they chose to be seen.
“You should go, I know I would if I could.” She embraces
the urge to signal solidarity. She recognizes the lonely pillar
of strength squawking into the void. She’s eager and enlivened
to join. “They need us,” she tells him. The artists, the movers,
the shakers. But they march where no one is watching. With
no real audience, nothing will change if no one is listening.
The summer’s ritual of an evening rain gushes down upon my large umbrella. I quickly step to dodge flooding puddles surrounding me. And that’s exactly what I’ve been doing most of my life, avoiding disasters. But the person awaiting my arrival, he is my safe haven. Everything leading up to this moment, although it may have been disastrous at times, is exactly how it should have been. I pull to close the umbrella, brush a few raindrops from my face, take a deep sigh, and pull open the door to the coffee shop where we’ve arranged to meet. He stands to greet me. My nerves are shot, and I can’t for the life of me know where to begin. I squeeze out a nervous smile. We’ve already reconnected for the past year but, this is the first time I get to see him again and I’m uneasy. Do I start from step one, see where this goes? Do I immediately pull into the throes of a lover’s embrace? So many questions racing for an answer. I want to turn off the questions in my mind, sit here and stare at him for a while. Order a coffee & tea, and say something, anything to believe that this was all meant to be. I want him to teach me a few phrases I have yet to learn and do all the things we have left to do. And I know we will. We have the time. We have all the time. We have all the time for us.
Thanks for reading. This is an edited repost from August 2020.