My best friend and I were between worlds.
We were still teenagers.
A little older now.
I had left the blessed band of black clothes and poetry.
Things had happened.
Still talked on occasion to my old family.
Was never the same.
I missed them dearly.
I felt lost.
Met a new friend at school. He played guitar.
Asked me to join his band.
Mostly people I'd never met.
Sure, why not.
One of the best things that could have ever happened to me.
Strong connections made instantly.
Different connections.
Through them I met others.
A motley band of geeks and musicians, athletes and dreamers.
Different types of poetry being written in those days.
Less black. More color.
Much more music.
I discovered a love of intimate conversation during late night drives.
Pie nights and coffee.
Dreams yet to be realized, but
The future would soon be ours.
We knew it.
We were winning.
My best friend entered our fold.
Made me so happy.
We grieved the end of the old times together, and rejoiced in new beginnings with this colorful blend of intelligence and warm hearts.
I remember going to my favorite cafe, still filled with focaccia and old dreams, and handing a new dear friend his first cigarette.
Sometimes I could be a bad influence.
They couldn't believe some of the things I had already seen at 17.
I couldn't believe it either.
They helped me feel my age again.
I will always owe them for those smiles.
It was then that I became a best man for the first time.
The band recorded our first (and last) album.
Happy times filled with music and a new life.
We were still winning.
Brief romances.
The band helped me write a song about one of them.
Another was a song with just the singer and I.
We both had our meanings.
The guitar part was written for a tall, lithe beauty framed in dark hair that I hadn't been able to get off my mind.
We still talked then.
She never heard that song.
Old life trickled into the new.
Familiar faces joined this group of friends.
The webs became larger.
Romance seemed to be everywhere.
I now participated.
A long term relationship emerged.
The web changed.
New threads added.
Some threads broke.
She was lovely.
We still talk from time to time.
Has a wonderful husband and children.
She is now part of another's story.
Watched as soulmates orbited each other's stars.
It wasn't quite the time for them.
It would be.
When it finally happened, all would seem right in my world.
I smiled for days when I heard that they had finally married.
They are still close friends in this life.
Took me into their home not that long ago
When I felt aimless, unsure,
armed only with a head full of words and so much determination.
I would make my insides feel right.
I owe them so much.
They are still beautiful.
Back to our story.
Road trips to Canada.
Being pulled over for our silly fearlessness.
Concerts with the band.
One with inflatable toys and autographed cans of cream corn.
Another that ended with most of us dancing in the crowd while playing our last song.
I'll never forget the blonde-haired beauty who I adored pressed up against me that evening.
I played for her that night.
Laughter over coffee.
Smiles and shining eyes glittering in the long night.
Watching sunrises and wondering about the edges of our hearts.
Talks of faith.
Lots of differing perspective and opinion.
All were welcome here.
We were young.
Headstrong and hopeful.
More threads broke.
Other threads rebuilt.
Many-colored lines and hues to our days and nights,
lives that orbited around each other chaotically, lovingly.
Things changed.
They always have to change.
It didn't all end in sadness.
It just changed, life was happening.
Life does that.
Happens.
We are scattered now.
I love them no less.
Actually, I think I love them more.
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