I used to think, if we kissed
in every time zone, it would always be the blue hour
in which I loved you. It still is. The literal
lightning bolt lodged in your family tree. The erased
surname. The alibi bone placed inside you.
A secret takes on a shape beyond language, becomes
tangible, something potentially broken
in half, for the world to see and give words to.
- from Jeffrey McDaniel's Meeropol
Sometimes it just hits me, how I miss certain things and certain people. How different my life would have been if we had moved to Singapore like we had planned or if I had stayed in Hanoi on that strange whim that still haunts me from time to time. Would I still find myself sipping coffee at the What If Cafe of my thoughts, waiting for someone to arrive to tell me about his day? Oh, the stories we would share.