Ford: "Which cafe?"
monstre: "The no-name one".
Moments later we were seated at ornate iron tables, alone on the terasse, listening to the Danforth roar by while the sun set on our shoulders.
I had pages clenched in my fingers.
We spoke of a myriad of things, unmentionables, or un-shareables-if-you're-not-drunk.
We weren't. Or perhaps the sunset after so long indoors was more potent than pints.
We spoke of nothings and great-things, and then the apple pie and teas and biscotti were crumbs and time was crawling steadily towards home.
I handed Ford that first page, Kegboy's first page, the one for his illustration of cat-sized dragons, that I began in January and then promptly abandoned after fifteen minutes of barfing words in haphazard patterns.
Ford made some comments. She asked questions I had no answers for, but in trying to explain them, I found the answers spilling from my mouth without stopping to check in at my brain. Boxes appeared in strange orders with strange themes on the back of a UML diagram, and the second set of fifteen minutes suddenly doubled the story. I guess that makes sense.
We wandered back up the Danforth, up Cambridge, Ford speaking all too intelligently of things I often disregard.
And then it was her turn to speak, and all of a sudden I had a glimpse of a mature writing process, plans within plans within styles and symbols and chapter-sized metaphors.
And then it was hugs, warmer than the universe, and a swift drive home for more of them.
In the next fifteen minutes, on the way home, the story swelled and danced behind the traffic lights in my head, and suddenly I don't feel the loss of my inner ALIVE so strongly.
And a soft comment from Dave last night and... I realized... Maybe I shouldn't stop writing here.
Because it isn't just about the community, and whilst I am touched by Pol's and Geek's reaching out -- that aspect of here, the constant feedback, the caring, the communication really is fading somewhat.
However -- one thing is true. Whilst livejournal is all about babbling and giggling and swift retorts
This place has always been about chronicling the lessons that I've learned, choosing to document moments that have struck me as worth having lived for, or through.
Looking back over the years, I have done so much growing here.
And suddenly today, I have a thousand things to say, lessons about the Pacific Mall, asian-only bowling alleys, the admiration that my coworkers reflect back at me. Lessons about the stupidity of a $400 makeup case and why I am better off having lost it in exchange for a full morning in a swimming pool.
An analysis of how far I've come in singing, eating, breathing, sleeping.
The events that have passed will be chronicled by my memory, however... Perhaps there are a few analyses left to come.
I am so close to where I wanted to be three years ago when I began here.
So close, and yet... The cobblestones stretch out to forever.