Two Weeks, Two Days, Twelve Hours

We pushed ourselves to the absolute lengths that our weary legs could take us. Whether it be by foot, or by pedal or by broken thought, we trekked until we could not trek a single inch more. That is what we lived for that summer. And we had to remember that this wasn’t like the winter weekend we spent in that summer spot. And then, every time it began to rain, we cleansed ourselves – body and mind – of the rot that had been building up for those prior weeks (two weeks, if you value perfection of detail the way that we did).

And I’ll always remember that weekend that our failed candidate endorsed the front-runner. I guess that meant that we had to ascribe ourselves to one of them. Somehow, it felt like we were choosing not only a political future, but a future for ourselves as well. And that summer seemed like it was going to be defined by the likes of Billie Holiday, Patsy Cline, Ella Fitzgerald and even Ol’ Blue Eyes himself. And, though it was never spoken, it seems we made a vow to remain thin that summer. After all, “consumption is just a vice,” I always said. Perhaps it was noble the way we stripped ourselves of vices, but new ones always came to monopolize those vacant places. Smoke in our lungs, profanities on our tongues or ire in our hearts towards those that were always to have meant the world to us.

And as far as I can tell, we will break any day now. We will meet an all new us. We will hurt those that are everything. We will abandon those past times that occupied our times in the past. This is something that I know is inevitable. Therefore, I apologize in advance. And, in advance, I accept your apologies as well. Let us put forth the effort to stay together, but we can never turn down new experiences. I have faith in this, I have faith in individuals, I have faith in solidarity. Mostly, though, I have faith in the beauty of a stranger’s face – before familiarity consumes all. That is truly the most alluring and fascinating time in the relationship between us all.