I Float Like a Cannonball

I have to admit - out of everyone I was going to see this past week, I was the most excited to see him.

The anticipation has been building for some time now, really. Since that bus ride that night in October. After he left for his trip and I realized it was time for me to really start my life here in San Francisco. I was always so happy to hear from him when he was away. And when he got back, he told me how much he appreciated it. Which doesn't sound like much, but for him...

And while I didn't expect anything to happen this past week, I am not surprised that nothing didn't happen.

"There's still a little bit of your taste in my mouth..."

Not that it will go anywhere. He's different and it's wonderful. I'm different and I wouldn't have it any other way. There will always be that connection. But behind it, all that baggage. All those pieces of us that though great, don't quite fit together. Without pinching. Even though I really, really, love him. It will never work and by now, I am past wanting it to do so.

"Still a little bit of you laced with my doubt..."

But I feel lucky to have had this week. On top of that weekend. And in front of this relationship. This dysfnunctional friendship-meets-affair somewhere in the middle. Where no matter what it's too much and not enough at the same time. When too little too late intersects with perfect timing because it's always better later than never.

"Still a little hard to say what's going on..."

Starting with our sort of awkward everyone's around us hug hello on Friday. And ending with our should we kiss each other good-bye embrace this morning as we boarded separate trains to separate airports, it was always really, really, good to see him. Because it wasn't always awkward... Even though it didn't always make a whole lot of sense.

"And it's not hard to fall When you float like a cannonball..."

"Cannonball" by Damien Rice. From the album, O.