Things I should say, but then I don't.

It is one of my most firmly held reasonings that, when someone has been a harbinger of beauty in your life, the right thing to do is tell him so.

You were a part of my life at an important locus.

I was busy living, and a day was approaching - a day that marked an important thing that should have happened, but didn't because fate reached in through the fabric of space-time and did what fate will do. Fate blew the whole thing up, tore down the house, stole all of the diamonds and pearls; some call it creative destructionism. It's just the way of the world.

I knew I couldn't avoid my own notion of time, and how it passes, nor how certain latitudes, specific longitudes, will pull back, aim, and shoot a straight and true arrow right through my heart.

Somehow, it happened that you were there at that point in my life. I spent some time listening to you, asking you about your life. You are quite remarkable, and somewhat terrifying. But that time spent with you put me in touch with my most authentic self. You were gracious and you allowed me to be the person who is still enamored with the poetry of mundane things, like humid summer nights, and grapes off the vine. You were magnanimous, and welcomed my discussion about the things that people normally don't talk about. Death, the meaning of life, the evasive search for joy or peace.

You took my heavy, dark atmosphere in stride, and you made me feel confident that, along with all of my other qualities - well, this part can be tolerated, or even accepted as an ecentricity that is partially endearing, and unwittingly disarming. You allowed me the space to be as big and deep as I really am, and not a lot of people will put up with that.

Most people want everyone around them to be small, confined, and easy.

*** Wait, who are you? ***

That is quite a spread you have there, it's like I can almost see the fabric of the universe bending around your mass.

Maybe I am imagining things. Maybe you were just telling me what I wanted to hear.

But it's not important, because in this story I've got going on in my head, you were a harbinger of beauty in my life. You were a witness to something magnificent, and you didn't even know, because it was all invisible.

This old heart of mine, though, had a brief reprieve from grief. And I just think you ought to know that I am so very thankful that you were kind to me.