Where are you?

Here I am. Where are you?

I imagine you are at work. A journalist, maybe, or a teacher. English? History? P.E? Oh, please don't let it be P.E.! I imagine you are changing the life of a child even as I sit and write about you. Telling a young girl that she can accomplish more than she gives herself credit for, or coming up with some intricate football analogy to explain the idea of democracy to a struggling boy in 3rd period. Or, maybe you're still in school. Spacing out during your psychology class, thinking about how much you would rather be somewhere else. Maybe you are between jobs right now, not even sure of what job you're supposed to have. You spend your days working part time at the local music store, playing all the expensive guitars and wishing they were yours while daydreaming about what your future holds. You don't know that I'm a part of that future... but I am.

I can't help but imagine what it would be like if were together now. You would call. I know it is you because you have a special ring tone on my cell phone. Just another convenience of a modern romance. After a casual hello and daily small talk, you would ask what I wanted to do tonight. Good question. I wouldn't have an answer. Although going out is nice, staying in might be nicer. I suggest ordering in and renting one of the movies that has recently been swarmed by Oscar Buzz. Nope. You don't like that idea. "I'll surprise you", you say. I can't help but go along with that... I do love a good surprise. Later that evening you would pick me up, both of us dressed in our mid-day best. Jeans and gym shoes, of course. We would hop into your sporty SUV... a car you bought (and will be paying off for the next 10 years) merely because you thought it, as you say, 'upped your cool factor'... and we're off. Of course the drive is filled with witty banter and the occasional silence in which we both think about how lucky we are. Your surprise turns out to be a trip to the roller rink. Although I am quite apprehensive--being that I haven't been on roller skates since I wore my hair in a side pony-tail and kept neon colored scrunchies on my wrist-- I feel safe skating with you. There's something about the way you tell me I'll be fine that actually makes me believe it. After you tell me that my pathetic attempt at roller skating was actually quite endearing, we grab something to eat at the local over-rated chain restaurant and end up back at my place. Where you have so thoughtfully (although not too surprisingly) rented that Oscar bound movie I had my thoughts on earlier. As I settle into your arms... a space that was seeminly created for me... I can't help but think about how I wouldn't want to be anywhere else.

I am here. Where are you?