We all remember our first. I remember mine. I didn't know what was
happening to me. Why wasn't I eating? Why couldn't I stop thinking of
him? Why did my whole world and life seem to be consumed by thoughts
of this other person?
We spent our first Christmas in the snow in Colorado, in a cabin. We
were snowed in on the day I was supposed to leave, to head back to
college. I was given one more day and night, and what a gift that was!
He lay face down on the ground, and I lay and watched, studying the
curve as his shoulders became his back became that special curve right
at the base of the back, and beyond. And on the record player (this
was a long time ago) was Drive by The Cars. And that was the happiest
moment in my life.
Things happened, as they will, and we parted ways. I always think of
him on April tenth, his birthday. And as I sat here thinking of him,
my music player (cmus, if you're wondering) played Drive by The Cars.
I cried. I'm still wiping the tears. But I'm so very happy for that
moment, the beauty of the presence, of just being there with him. Love
does that to you.
Happy birthday, buddy. I'm still thinking about you.