Me: Punk rock formed my soul, but these days it lets in other sounds. I'm slightly synaesthetic. I play music to watch the colors in my mind. I just finished my third and final degree. I work hard and have spent a fair amount of time devoted to fighting for what I think is the right side of justice. After a chance to bite the golden apple, I decided my punk rock soul would wither and die and now I move to the next phase. I ride my bicycle every single day. I run. I surf. I hike. I camp. I was a chef in a past life.
She: Gets down with a belly laugh. Appreciates the scars as much as the flowers in my soul because she relates. Tells me I just wrote a beautiful song. Is dedicated to her work. Wants to get physical, which includes things other than sex. Beats me to the beer garden after a bike ride and forces me to make dinner as a blue ribbon. Pushes me where I haven't been yet.
Us: Belly laughs. Deep talks. Challenge one another. Respect. Admiration. Sum total greater than the parts. Keep staring at each other when nobody is looking. Heart twitches and belly-flies.
She's around here somewhere . . .
