a school boy again at 4 am

Are you awake? I’m thinking of you. It’s 4 am and I want to text you, but I know that’s a bad idea. I always come on too strong and things blow up. I’d like to play it cool this time so that maybe it’ll work out. So instead I write here in the little blog of mine that no one knows about or reads. Or if they do, I don’t care. 

Let’s talk about serendipity. Let’s talk about Schopenhauer. Let’s talk about how I’ve been thinking about you for years. 

Schopenhauer said that if you want to know how you truly feel about someone, imagine how you’d feel if you unexpectedly received a letter from them. 

When I got that text (“I saw you this morning”), I didn’t know who it was from. But of all the people on earth who I hoped it could be from, I hoped that it was you. And so it was. And my heart went a-racing. 

Now, I know you’re not perfect. In fact, I think you might be a Republican, which is unforgivable. Almost, in your case. 

But I know other things. Important things. That the fact we might rekindle something makes me feel alive and that feeling alive is a good thing. That neither books nor Bach make me feel alive any more. That I just do what I do to pay the bills so my family may have clothes and maybe happiness. 

I don’t know who you are, really. I don’t know who I am. I just like feeling alive. 

We meet in the morning for coffee. 45 minutes is not enough. I’m a school boy again. I want to text you.