I do this a lot.
I have been talking with a good friend recently and yesterday I said for the umpteenth time that he should come visit.
There was this sort of awkward pause.
And then I apologized. Said I would stop nagging.
And I reaffirmed that though it seems odd for a girl to invite a boy to come and visit her, there was nothing more than platonic friendship. He laughed. He said that hadn’t crossed his mind, but it was a good point.
I feel I overstepped my boundaries by inviting him.
But Colorado is so good.
I used to loathe this place. Now I adore it. If I had to be stuck anywhere in the US, I said to Grahm (or Ingrid, or Sarah, or Matt) this would be it. I would choose here.
Amid the brown and yellow plains with their grasses bending in the high wind advisory.
Looking west to the mountains that hovered like ghosts, grey and silver sleek against the velvet black sky, as I drove home from the prison the other night.
With the distance. The miles and miles of open space.
Stopping for deer on Parker Road.
Watching deer graze in the neighbour’s yard, stepping gingerly on the frosty grass.
Dancing in the snow, the snow! Shoveling out and sipping cocoa and laughing with Eden: There is snow! Jesus loves me! Me! Even me!
Standing at Daniel’s Park and gazing out onto the wide world. Hearing the stillness of the snow fall on the rocks and blow between blaze scarred trees. Whispering to the silence and feeling so very small.
I think he should come to see this, to feel it and hear it.
Because I think everyone should come here.
But sometimes, signals cross and it is hard for men and women to grow up from childhood and be friends as adults.
Life, it seems, is sometimes rather messy.