an explanation of sorts about weight, birth, contradiction and fortuitous events

I had just started planting my roots back to Mother Earth when something interesting caught my eye- a fluttering suggestion of commonality. I met with the suggestion and suggested a bottle or two, and, to my surprise, found many more fluttering commonalities.

So that’s how it all started, nineteen empty bottles with missing bottle caps.

At this point I found out that my newfound quaint drudgery of life was starting to present too much stillness. So when such occasions approached I fell consciously to you and our quiet conversations, ending only because of the urgency of the looming sunrise. Claiming my daily dose of intellectual pregnancy, leaving well fed and satisfied.

Quaint drudgery or what Milan Kundera defined as the Unbearable Lightness of Being, if I understood him correctly, bore on me like heavy luggage. Such lightness, at first, was appealing- quiet, unrestricted and rational. But, as our sittings became customary, and our consultations became engaging, I found your presence cramping my days with weight.

Now, unfortunately, life weight affects me in a very peculiar manner- I float.

Maybe I got Milan’s point backwards. I’m not sure.

But as you add weight I float. My feet gently leave Terra Firma.

It was only a matter of time before our dialogues gave birth to us. We came into being on the twenty-third or twenty-fourth, depending on how you read your time or how high my blood alcohol level might be, under vague terms of agreement. The exact time of our birth, as far as mental reconstruction would allow, was during an unnamed second before eleven fifty-nine p.m. and right after twelve a.m.

So that was our ‘When’.

The ‘Why’ for that day was quite obvious- our apparent magnetism. That ‘It’ that drew us, without a choice, together. That thing that you’ve so eloquently compressed as synchronicity.

Our ‘How’ however, requires a more imaginative answer, and I’ll try to articulate it with the use of my entire unimpressive vocabulary arsenal. In short, I’ll enlighten you as vaguely as possible.

Here goes nothing.

Our ‘how’ didn’t come about in one single instant. Instead it was a series of factors and events that finally culminated into a single silent touch- like a loud punch line. Hilariously surprising but, at the same time, a consequence that was both natural and simple. The kind of simplicity that you’d find while playing dice or a slot machine- you’ll eventually, if chance tolerates it, get three cherries.

After our fleeting twelve-hour labor I woke up. And my alarm clock was wailing like a fuming spouse. And after that, came a rush of sirens made from past infidelities.

I was terrified.

Then you called.

And we talked, about nothings and somethings.

And we met and talked, silently of course.

And then apparently I was no longer terrified.

And we replaced everything with loud, equipoise, quiet conversations about excess baggage, excess ex’s, Cynthia Alexander and dissected day matter.

‘So, what do I do now?’ I ask.

Fate, as you’ve said, must’ve had a hand in this. What else could it be? We got incarcerated and still escaped liability.

What else can I do, God put you in my way.

Nothing, of course.

Maybe have a bottle or two with you and our gorgeous banters and linger for some more fortuitous events.