#1208

Sometimes I think the universe is like a river and if I wait long enough on its banks everything I need will come floating past: an almost-like-new flat screen to replace my ancient beast, a free crockpot bigger and fancier than the one I broke in the sink, two perfectly serviceable bar chairs when everyone’s been complaining I don’t have enough seating in my apartment. Part of me figures I can do the same with you as well, that passive patience will trump active perseverance and if I wait, eventually you too will one day come floating down and I can scoop you like a leaf out of the water. That’s not how it works, of course, and another part of me, the part I really only listen to in the dead of night, knows that. Sure, you may be somewhere in that river, but I’ll never catch you by lingering on the shore. I’d have to wade into those dark depths, risk that unpredictable current, brave the long, cold swim that may never have an end. Yet once I submerge myself, can I ever climb back out? Or will I become another bit of flotsam carried along to some far, unknown destination? I’m not sure I’m ready to take that plunge. The shore is familiar, safe, predictable, and you know I’ve never been the adventurous type. For now I’ll remain on the bank and keep tossing my note-filled bottles into the waves, hoping somehow they’ll find their way to you. And maybe if I’m feeling bold I’ll dip my toes in the water.

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