the mechanics of relationships.

we've stumbled out for a J on the exterior corner steps, next to their new loft - the one we're taking a painting break from. eventually 2 out of 4 us go inside, leaving me alone on the steps with an old friend. and the next thing you know we're talking about the mechanics of relationships, and i'm remembering all of the things i love about this kid. his horrific realism, and blunt understanding. i cry out, "i don't get men" and he nods and says, "i get women."

he says, "the prettier the girl, the less interesting they are." i say, "the hotter the guy, the stupider he is." we've agreed on something! has this ever happened before?? he smiles. "so what, we start dating unattractive people?" he says, "no, you let things be."

no, get this. with his stubble, and thick hair, blue eyes, and movie star grin, he says, "listen, i picked up this stupid book eric had lying around, about this monk or something. and it said something about the past and the future. and that's all any one of us ever is thinking about. we're only ever thinking about stuff that's happened or stuff that's going to happen, which is a waste, because there's no going back, and there's no way of predicting what's going to happen, so just take whatever's happening now, instead of worrying about what it means."

then he looked down at his paint-stained legs and said, "fuck, why did i wear these? these are my favourite pants."

and as the skyline developed a pink border, i found myself listening to him. staring off in another direction as he said this. and the minute he started, i was read to roll my eyes at him and write him off. another stupid 20 year old hippy boy who's going to try to convince me that the "now" is all that matters.

and then he said exactly what i was thinking.

he had spoken while i was literally in the middle of thinking about how our current moment was going to affect the future and what it meant about the past. so when he said that, i snapped my head back to his, and in a state of awe and disbelief i slowly smiled. it was a genuine fucking smile. and i remembered that this was the one, who had once answered one of my ever-so-frequent-big-philosophy questions with the answer, "i have no idea what i'll do then because i'll have a whole different brain by the time i'm there."

so i looked down at my naked paint-stained legs next to his and i said, "fuck. these are my favourite legs."