I first met Mem in an art exhibit at West Gallery. She came with his brother and her boyfriend, whom I met years ago when I went to spend a week at my cousin's town down in the suburbs. My cousin told me long ago that I should meet her, we'll click; but the socially anxious recluse me didn't really pay attention to anything with new human interaction involved.
And then we talked - and talked - after we were formally introduced, as if we knew each other for a very long time. There's a certain comfort in her words, the way they come out of her mouth, the way they sound, the way she articulates certain sounds. It felt like she was laying down her heart, her whole being.
People thought we've been friends for a very long time then, but we just met. We wore the same eyeglasses.
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I first met Sue in a language class at the University. Her hair was straightened and down to her shoulders back then. I came to class early, and there she went coming in through old creaking doors with her chatty lady friends. My eyes were on her. She looked like someone who doesn't want to be there, someone who doesn't want to be with the people she was with.
I cannot really remember when we started to talk to each other, call each other by name even. I want to remember but I think it doesn't matter. It's like the days before I met her didn't exist. And before I knew it, I started to ache for her and love her, wanting so much not to let anything hurt her.
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It's so magical how these relationships are borne from nothing.
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There's an island in the far south where low tides are extreme, you can walk more than a mile from the shore but the water is still ankle deep. The sky was blue and grey when I went with Mem; the sky was seafoam and blue when I went with Sue. But the sunset was the same calm sunset, gifting the star lit sky to our tired wandering souls.
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