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September 08, 2002 Something Supersonic, Ultraviolet and Lovely It's easier for me to think of all the things in the world I could do than to actually do them. The irony, of course, is that the latter option makes life easier, simpler. Take this point in time. I'm here at a local diner, eighteen past two early in the morning and my fingers are numb. My eyes are centered on her fork as she cuts up a grilled chicken breast. I have yet to touch my sandwich. The seconds tick by and silence continues to ensue. She suddenly looks up and breathes out, softly, gently, "I thought it was good." "Huh?" I like to make dumb commentary. Of course, my real excuse was that I was daydreaming, but I can't tell her that. "The movie. It was good. Where did you find out about it?" We had caught a documentary on how grass grows between layers of sedimentary rock in the Andes. It was fascinating. (Alright, not really. It was some Spanish flick and I don't really care about it right now.) "Yeah, it was. Listen, I was thinking if you'd marry me." Now I wait. She continued chewing into her chicken. Everything else was unnecessary. My pleas were unnecessary. Her chicken was necessary. "Sure. But can we have an August wedding?" "Uh. Sure. How much do I have to pay you?" "I'm not sure. I'll have to talk to my agent. But I believe somewhere around $20 bucks, so I can buy myself some good food." I smiled at her and she smiled back. I grabbed her right hand, touched her fingers to mine and suddenly we were gleaming with joy. It wasn't really that our conversation was the least bit serious, but rather we had suddenly learned how to joke around. To be able to mess with each other in that fashion is amazing. It's another level. No more awkwardness. In fact, I should just ask her her bra size while I'm at it. Alright, maybe not. Our hearts are not methodical. « Someone Choose Who's Left and Who's Leaving | Kind of Like Destiny, But Not Really » | |||