So there's this man that lives in a van, a strange and wild and wonderfully twisted creature who waited a few long years for this week's second date, a second chance to cook me steak, a chance to start again and make amends, and to fix what he left broken.
A man who asked me to live with him in said van for a winter in Arizona (remember that?) but my heart was entwined with another so I declined.
A man who inspired a delicious book in 2013 called "36 Hours", a book that I never quite finished because once my heart closed to him, the lines shut down as well.
A man who told me just yesterday that he still longs to read the story of us...
I imagine it's still being written.
This van-dwelling hippy is one of the few whose presence does not disturb my solitude. One of the very few that fit.
A rare bird indeed.
It was nice to sit with him in silence and feel as comfortable as I did the first time we met. It was nice to share a meal as well as our hearts as we listened to album after album on his dated MP3 player.
And it was nice to see him once again, to try to heal what needed healing, to try to say what needed to be said, to learn of his pull towards commitment, to honour my pull towards freedom, and to replace what ailed with its proper solution.
We may never cross paths again, but I'm glad that his question, "Can I come cook you steak?" came on a day when I was ready to say a full yes to a few more moments with him.
Because I only say yes to full yeses.
Anything else is a no.
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