July 11, 2011

I know we are three hours apart, but tonight for some reason I thought maybe, as time advanced in my time zone, it would for some strange reason consent to staying the same in yours, so in three hours I’d have caught up to you, and it would be the same time in both places. And I thought that time, having already stepped out of its comfort zone to act different ways in different places, might talk space into doing us a favor as well, and time and space would agree to be, not just interrelated like they normally are, but actually the same thing, and suddenly you could be not just when I am but where I am, or I could be where you are. I doubt very much that the actual physical location matters that much to either of us, it might be more the kind of thing where we feel like, hey, as long as the other person is there. That might be it. Once you are here or I am there courtesy of temporal and spatial favors, we could find out whether this is the type of thing where all that matters to us is that the other person is there. I suspect that it could be. I want to know for sure.

I guess, once we were both present, now that we have a high-profile friend called time we could ask him to please perform one final contortion, to fast forward to the point where we know for sure, one way or the other. That seems like the kind of thing I would want normally. To be as certain as possible as early as possible. But I suspect that this might be the kind of thing I will want to have been around for every second of, and I should let those seconds come at the rate they normally do. It’s not like I have a choice. We’ll have to find out when we do, and where we do, and we can’t change how “where” relates to “when,” we can’t buy them drinks until they’re drunk enough to switch hats. It will probably be one of the things that is so neat about it if it does happen, that it exists among this dumb system of days and weeks when it feels so totally eternal, and no I don’t like using that word either but I will because it’s what I mean. I want to say that love is a nice house in a bad neighborhood called time. But I can’t speak authoritatively. I haven’t been there in a while.

Posted by DC at July 11, 2011 02:01 PM
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