The Diner

We met at 19 at the diner in our hometown.

Up until that night, our lives had been parallel.

We would have met sooner if you hadn't gone to Catholic school.

Or if I'd run into you on your way to your best friend's house. He lived on the street next to mine,

Just as my best friend freshman year lived four houses down from yours.

How many times had we passed one another over the years?

How many times had I been going in one door while you were coming out another?

But it wasn't until we were 19 that we finally met,

At the diner in our hometown,

When fate threw us together.

You were funny

And mean, the way Catholic school boys can be.

You were smart and quick and incredibly tall,

But what stood out was this feeling that you would be an important piece of my story.

I didn't understand the overwhelming thought that nestled in my soul and said, "This one."

We'd become friends. Although I wouldn't remember how we exchanged numbers or screennames.

We'd date when we were 22 and break up a year later when I realized I needed to grow up.

We'd stay friends for a decade. And we'd kiss ever so often.

And when we were 32, we'd fall back in love. We'd buy a house. We'd get married. We'd live happily ever after.

But first we'd meet at the diner on a warm night in July.

Two kids who up to that point lived parallel lives. Until we ended up at the same place at the right time.