Thursday, Jul. 03, 2003
"I love you," I said.
"I'm glad," she said.
"I really do," I said.
"I can't believe this!" she blurted.
"I know! It's pretty neat, huh?"
We put our foreheads together for a moment before we kissed.
"And all of this," she whispered, "is real."
I was getting choked up. Realizing a life's dream, I tend to get a bit emotional. She was blurry through my watery eyes.
"It's as real as those sirens in the distance," she said. "It's as real as anything we know."
I rested my chin on her shoulder.
"It's as real as that guy running through the parking lot over there," she said.
I looked to the sound of his clomping feet. There he was, a late-night club-hopper jogging as if he were trying to catch a city bus.
"And as real as the cop chasing him."
His under-shirt vest made him look quite beefy, but he kept a contoled jogger's pace twenty feet behind the alleged club-hopper. They came up from behind us, across the street and ended up at the intersection ahead of us.
"Get on the fucking ground - now," yelled the cop in a tone of a short-tempered parent. The kid laid down as the distant sirens became alarmingly (heh) closer. I could see the red, white and blue lights whirling on the sides of buildings before three squad cars came screeching into the intersection from all directions.
"It's as real as that guy is getting busted over there."
For all the dreamy romance of being involved together in something that actually works, we are constantly reminded that it ain't all micro-brews and Klondike bars. Our life isn't a separate existance unto ourselves, but a drop in the greater ocean - as it should be. Nonetheless, this is ours.
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