On the back of my last post..
The rockiest time… I have these memories as well, going to see the boy at Jet Connection. The boy had stopped purring. His voice was cold like it was to the restaurant customers he didn’t like or a bartender he didn’t like. I was on the outer edge. Life was still moving on for me. I’d bought my house. Chad was living with me. William sniffing around… Softball several nights a week, entire new chapter and friend group. No signs of what I’d left in that building on the Newport high-way.Then every once in a while I’d feel a tug. Test the waters. See the first reaction on a boy’s face when I saw him…. It the same as it had been. He’d also left it all in that building. Then he moved that business to a building at the bottom of five mile. Across from where there had been a drive-in theater. I’d spent so much of my pre-teens and teens there. My mom would fill big paper grocery bags with fresh popcorn, take a cooler, bring a fried and lay on the roof of our car or… you know, prance ...