Steven Spielberg, it’s your turn again.

I’m writing this down with what little I can remember of it so I don’t forget it, again.

The universe brought you to me. I don’t need to know why or how, it just did.

I think Heather and I were at Denny’s. Smoking, drinking coffee, talking as much as we could because neither of us wanted to go home. For different reasons. As we did when we’d get to a point we didn’t want to talk any more, we started playing the Celebrity Name Game we did often then.

The game is simple. One person starts by saying a name of a person (we pretty much let everything roll, fictional and non) and the next person has to come up with another person who’s first name begins with the first initial of the last name of the previous one.

We could, and did, play this game for hours.

You piped in at a lull, and we just took you into the game. You moved your coffee and ashtray over and that was it. You were in.

Months later, I’d sit with you in the wee hours, keeping you company in a moment I just didn’t want you to have to live alone. That was it, you were my person from then on.

I hope you knew that hadn’t changed. I may have been mad at you for pulling away, for what I likely misconstrued as shutting me out, but had you come by even just to get your book that would have melted away in a second.

I shut you out too, I know that. We had a weird thing where we never wanted to burden each other even though neither would have seen it that way really.

Humans are weird. I miss yours.

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