Her: “{insert my full name}!”
Me: “What?”
Her: “I can’t believe you just said that. When did this happen?”
Me: “Nothing happened, just thoughts, lofty thoughts…you know.”
Her: “Oh, I do…they are dangerous.”
Me: “Don’t tell anyone, but check your email.”
(waits)
Her: *shrieks into phone* “Wow. You’ve changed. What happened to the plan?”
Me: “I’m in it currently…the end results may have shifted, to an earlier date, tis all.”
Her: “I love it. You never talk like this.”
Me: “Hey, we’re both happy at the same time. That never happens.”
Her: “I know.”
Me: “Makes you nervous doesn’t?”
Her: “Yes.”
Me: “But excited nervous. Feels like we’re a long way from the bridge doesn’t?”
Her: “It does.”
Me: “I still smell the vinegar and taste the salt though.”
***
I lick my lips in anticipation every time I cross water. Suspended, rolling along the pavement, the vibrations from the car tires hitting the grooves and the sound pumping out of the stereo….I like how the hills are lined with white houses, and multi coloured roofs like woven squares on a perfectly sewn quilt.
I think if I can see the water, ride over bridges and see the sun descend behind the hill, I’ll always have a bit of home with me.
And that’ll tie me over till you’re here.
Just.
Funny how certain people can alter those plans, just by being there.
Keep on crossing bridges.
One of those life mysteries. ;)