Why do I meet them?
I don’t have that answer.
Sometimes my gut warns me but I go anyway
He has a spunky personality
Full of life and energy
Sold all that he owned 2 years ago
Bought a truck and a camper
Went to Oregon to ‘smoke weed and write poetry’
I leaned in a bit from the table we were sitting at
I enjoy these
The stories
He called it a first meeting, not a date
I believe he was surprised at my lack of offense to this
“what’s your story?” I asked politely
His face lit up with happiness yet he was indeed fragile, breakable
His dad was a policeman; his mom stayed home
They were poor, many times the heat and water turned off for weeks
His dad an alcoholic
He and his brother were forced to fight one another until there was blood, not just until one of them had blood, but both
He then shared that his dad made them get down on their hands and knees
And hit them both with a 2 x 2.
The one who moved the most; struck more
It was to build character, to prepare them for the world
“I’m over it,” he stated aloud
I knew who he was trying to convince with that statement. It wasn’t me
He took my hand and began singing and twirling me about happily
“Are you for real?” he asked
“I think so” my response
There was just so much pain behind those sparkling blue eyes
As he walked me to my car he thanked me for existing
And a part of me felt so very grateful to show him something his world did not believe in
Singled Out. Positive Singles. Real Connections. 