from bar nights to cat chats – cheers to us
you’re not sure what’s better. days filled with casual connections, or nights of solitude. talking until your jaw goes numb, or sitting still long enough to notice the glint of a character’s earrings on the show you’re watching.
years ago, your father, his friend, and you would catch up for drinks on a monday night. there was one rule - no work talk. later, a second rule was introduced - no smartphones.
the three of you, different ages, would talk about anything and everything - music, libertarianism, the new barmaid’s ass. apart from that last point, the three of you never gossiped.
it was liberating to engage in conversations with substance, with men cut from the same cloth.
work. customers - how to get to the popular tourist sites. colleagues - long-running projects.
home. the cat - you talk at her in the evening while she lifts her butt for a scratch. you refine your posts, maybe chat online a bit.
you do miss those evenings at the ‘casablanca’ bar. your usual spots, chicken nuggets, beer, easy and meaningful conversations.
now you crave coming home to people you care deeply for. talking about their day, what you’ll do this weekend, when and where you’ll go for vacation.
you don’t need to stay positive - you know it will happen one day.
your desire is a fire. it’s already flaming and providing you warmth. just check on it sometimes. lean over and blow, long and gently.