This week is the two-year anniversary of the passing of an old and dear friend. A boy whose phone number I never took out of my cellphone - whose mix tapes I still have in my glove compartment. I think about Mason often - wonder if he's back among the living - sort of like what Archer said last week about ...waking up and becoming someone's baby sister.
I love to think that he and all loved ones lost, can find themselves again. In new lives, with new eyes and love and friendships.
I have spent so much of the last ten years looking back. Remembering and missing and longing for things I let go. Years and friends and loves -- moments that, in retrospect seemed so flawless, romantic, impossibly lost.
There have been so many times I wished it possible to pay the past a visit. Tonight was not one of them. I realized, this evening, while looking through old notes and pictures and various nostalgic bait, that I'd much rather focus on what's coming. New lives. New roads. New, new, new.
The good ol' days are yet to come.
No, wait. They're already here.