Sunday, 08 March 2009

• Twenty-Three Years.

  He moved here about a month ago, and he's been filling a gap in our IT department. However, the organization wasn't a good fit for him and he's moving back to Oregon on Tuesday. Yesterday, he took me to a concert. It was an hour away and we talked the entire time. We talked about family, places we've been, things we've done, and all the things that make us who we are. I bravely poured the contents of my existence into his hands, and he did the same for me. It was a strange feeling to know someone so well after only being with them for a handful of hours. The way we spoke, it was as if we'd known each other for years.
  
  He bought my ticket at the concert unexpectedly - gentlemen are few and far between nowadays. As we sat amidst the other concert-goers, we giggled about the lady with the huge hair seated a few rows in front of where we were. We laughed about the silly clothes that the band members were wearing, and made fun of oblivious passersby. Once the music started, he reached over to tell me something. He spoke into my ear and his prickly five o'clock shadow brushed against my cheek. I shivered - even though he was just telling me that the opening act sounded a lot like another band he knew.
  
  After the concert, he and I got into his car to make the drive home.
  
  "Are you tired?" I asked with a grin.
  
  "No..." He said, and smiled brightly.
  
  "Good! I'm not done hanging out with you!"
  
  "Sounds great - let's go back to my place and have a beer."
  
  Apparently, Oregon is known for having several nice microbreweries. He brought a couple of samples with him when he moved to the area. He popped open a dark ale for me and a pale one for himself, then led me to his patio to lie on our backs and inspect the underside of trees against the sky.
  
  After the beers had been enjoyed, he and I went back inside so he could show me photos that correlated with all of the stories he'd shared throughout the evening. I loved seeing bits and pieces of his life all fit together like that.
  
  Finally, at around one-thirty in the morning, neither of us could keep our eyes open any longer.
  
  "It's late!" I announced, yawning.
  
  "It sure is. Let me take you home." He said.
  
  We hopped back into his car and he dropped me off.
  
  I sent him a text message a bit later:
  
  "I didn't want to embarrass you by saying this to your face, but you are really handsome. Just thought you should know."
  
  He sent one back, saying this:
  
  "You're funny, very sweet, and obviously alcohol impaired...and a very attractive young lady yourself. Thanks for hanging out tonight. ;)"
  
  
  When he showed me photos of his past, I looked at the young, dark-haired stranger wistfully. As I tore my eyes away from the attractive young man in the photograph and faced the handsome gray-haired man in front of me, I wished with all of my might that I had been born 23 years earlier.
  
  
  We could have been perfect. He could have been what I've been waiting for. I guess I'll never know.
  
  

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