"we were gonna be in a band"

An embarrassing detail about my life I thought would have been funny to share considering how already desperately adolescent our circumstances were -- sneaking a cigarette every corner we can find and chugging cans of beer outside 7-11 with the rest of youngsters who've saved enough to buy themselves cheap iced tea to pass through an uneventful night in a dark city in the middle of nowhere facing a low-intensity protracted war as depicted by the number of security forces roaming the city, long arms in tow. What was the point of sharing an embarrassing detail if not to perform that I too am whimsical and shallow, wanting of attention and awkward. Awkward was all I had, really. A year has passed and there we were in a place, in a moment, in a place in our histories that shouldn't be, in an event that does not exist and will not exist except between the two of us and the uninvested strangers who witnessed our not being together together in a god-forsaken dusty town in the South.

It really is unbelievable how many moments we've managed to snatch away from our timelines. Not much but much enough to make a little bit much. That bit of much which is best kept to myself tucked neatly in casual friendly conversations we may still have in future or recollections of some time spent somewhere over the course of the year. It will be dishonest to say that what little much we have is not much to constitute what it takes to have something. And yet our experience tell us that its not much to build on. As we face this closure, we realize nevertheless that we will always have our anomaly, we will always have the most that we made out of our anomaly, we will always cherish the recklessness of our ambition, and every now and then our minds will wander back to those shared mornings waking up in each other arms, butterflies in our tummies, lips locked, breaths held hostage by the mystery of our bodies.