Black and Gold

I found myself sitting in the Presque Isle Art Gallery (and coffee shop) this afternoon, a mug in one hand, my chin in the other, listening to a friend talk about his upcoming thesis. The black clouds swirled angry in the sky, and we were catching up under the heat of a sea-glass lamp.

Time is a funny thing. And the future is, too. When you consider them (both time and the future), you really have no control over what happens. Sure, you can make some things happen, but what about the spontaneity that is so unique and beautiful to each life? What about the fun in letting every moment run its course? Why drain every day of its natural What Ifs?

So, around this time last year, I was sitting on the hill by OBS, watching the stars, holding his hand. We had a thing, whatever that thing might have been, and then it was over.
And here we sit, almost a year later (a year full of not-really-talking-and-being-kind-of-awkward-around-each other), laughing over paninis and Chai in a coffeehouse. I never would have guessed it would be this way, not after a full year of semi-awkwardness.

It's weird. But it gives me faith in people, I think. It gives me hope that our futures are still precious, and who's to say what will happen? Who's to say who will leave your life and who will come sauntering into it? Who's to say who will come back and stick around for a while?

I think that's the fun of it, of everything. Sometimes it's enough to just take life as it is instead of trying to make things happen.

Sometimes, you just need to chill out and wait. Relish in the possibilities.