How we m(e(e))t

I fell in love with you once in the span of 13 seconds or so. That was it for me. I flew halfway across the country to meet you right after Valentine's Day in Southern Carolina because you liked country and I heard that line in a country song once and thought: "this would be a cool story to tell our grandchildren." Little did I know you had been infiltrating my dreams for some time and while this was our first encounter in the waking world, you knew exactly who I was. And while the prospect of natural children becomes an ever shrinking dot in the rearview, every time I see my nephews, niece, or a baby I feel the sting of that dream not manifesting and it tears at me more and more. By this world's standards I deserve you less every day, but by God's I feel like I am getting closer to you with each step. And as the road paves and lengthens itself beneath my feet, I cannot help but wonder how much longer this damnable dreamless journey might be.

I know I sound crazy, but I don't care, and those around me seem to care less and less as they acknowledge the truth (through love or fear, it's immaterial to me at this point): if the world is going to end sometime and in someway, we had better put you in charge before you actually do give up and shit gets utterly unbearable for all those who thought they could hold a candle to my ability to "dreamwalk" the second to last of a slough of super powers they thought they (the nameless they that won't just drop outta the race even after I stop running to prove my point) had managed to strip from me here, a mountain of a single blessing God gave me from birth: the blessing of claiming any blessing as my own, and outshining the world itself with it. This is about to become a home town hoedown. Let the games begin, I'm heading down to Tennessee.