Part one

Boy meets girl.

Girl likes boy—He likes her too.

She never tells him and he thinks he’s not supposed to.

Like debris in a funnel cloud we danced around one another for years. Eventually finding ourselves seeking each other to hide from our fears. A safe space where getting ready for two hours was sometimes the point (as our friends growing ever impatient would tire of our “50 selfies before we leave minimum”)

On other occasions it would be one phone call to the other to rescue us from the grips of “shenanigans” we weren’t at all responsible for. 😜. Always there to answer those 3 am calls when either of our current boyfriends were giving us crap. As if we weren’t the very same person when the relationship began.

“F@&k ’em if they can’t take a joke”

Followed in response from the other end of the cellular call

“Joke “me if the can’t take a f@&k”

My shoulder, confidant, escape from any place uncomfortable. A woman who’s words and eyes deeper than any ocean. My beat friend, shenanigan companion, twisted sister. My ultimate happy place.

” don’t like him” became the usual response in regards to either of our new found (eventually snuffed out flames).

One night, about 3 years into our friendship/mental love affair we found ourselves inside one another’s mind and arms. I was inside her physically as deep as she was inside every cell of my body.

The next day, the first and biggest heartbreak.

Hey I need you to give me a ride to see a bail bondsman. _____ is getting out. Can you take me to go pick him up.

Asking my usual “5Ws”

Who: His name is not relevant.

What:her boyfriend (guess I missed that)

Where: the jailhouse

When:now (also one of the worst days of my life)

How: I had no idea how I was going to manage this heartbreak without her noticing.

Sure—lets go

Any question she asked, the answer was always yes. No matter how uncomfortable it made me.

What I understood in the morning after our entanglement—more than anything else, was that I love her. And I had from the moment I first laid eyes on the hurricane chaos that surrounded her, masquerading as a shiny array of radiant distractions.

I left her (and him, obviously) standing stranded on the streets of that city. As broken as city after katrina.

There wasn’t any FEMA relief coming to rebuild my heart. That took years of building and tearing down in a “wash rinse repeat cycle”.

We don’t learn too easily She and I.

Though it was a good 2 years before we saw each other again. Our reunion was inevitable. She would tell me she was sorry

When I came out and you were gone, I knew. Then I knew.

Everyone knew but her.

The person I was seeing at the time knew.

All of our friends knew. I knew(kind of)

But she didn’t know, for the same reason I also miss most things —because they are right in front of my face but I’m too busy looking off into some other sunset

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