how long has it been? surely over a year, tipping toward two. seems like it. and i'll admit it, even though it takes me back to a version of myself best not revisited: at least two or three times since that last time we spoke (it was one of a few occasions i have bumping around in memory, can't recall exactly) i've had half a mind to find out if and when you were back in town, and call you up. say i'm here too, not so far away, and i still remember where you live and i've driven past there a few times, or really wanted to, could have, and maybe if it's okay i'd like to pick you up and go out for the proverbial cup of coffee and talk. like people always say but rarely do.

except the way i saw it we'd actually do it, and we'd talk about what's happened in our lives or something substantial, and you'd probably laugh but i'd tell you what i could never quite articulate back then, informed by what's happened since. i wouldn't almost tear out the undercarriage of my car turning out of the loop parking lot. i always take a right when i go there now. it's become a matter of course to mention how often i used to spend friday and saturday nights there whenever i'm there with anyone else. truth is, i talk about you all the time with people i've met since who have no idea who you are. i relate parts of the experience of you as if they were stories passed down by others through time, any embellishments or inaccuracies i've added now seeming like reality because that's how i've been telling it. time's lens will add a layer of romance to anything. so much has probably changed, i wouldn't recognise a lot of you now. or you me. and i can't believe i'm writing this, but it's been a month for improbability.