Tuesday, July 29, 2003

...and so it can be.

I looked at him, in many ways as I had so many times, yet - as if I never had before.

I had done it, I had sat through dinner and conversation with Lucky - and even at points enjoyed it. He could see it, I could tell.

I was genuinely happier, stronger, more optimistic to embrace a future that once frightened me.

He went to mention at the end that he knew. He had heard there was someone else and he was happy for me. It felt forced on his part - which made it easier to tell him - that, honestly, there wasn't . I didn't need to tell him that I officially had ended it with HERO on Sunday morning, I didn't need to tell him tonight - peacefully I would sleep alone in my bed for the first time in 5 weeks - I only "wanted" to tell him that my happiness was emanating from me - not from or because of another.

As we sat at the wine bistro, it had begun, finally Arizona was about to get it's first true monsoon.

The wind whipped
trees fell folly
and the rain poured down - unafraid of either.

I looked at Lucky and I said, "Can we do one last thing?"

When he questioned what, I asked:

"Can we just walk out in to this storm - that rain - and can we just let it wash all of this away...can we just start fresh as friends ?"

We didn't make it a foot out the door and it drenched us - fashion gone to hell, bygones - just gone and we both laughed gleefully at how clean, how real, how beautiful it felt. I made him walk with me to my car and I gave him a song by East Mountain South about letting go and moving on:

"You only have to listen to it once", I said - "...but, please - listen to it now"

I climbed into my car, and through sheets of rain - I watched my past walk away.