begin the begin

Tonight, as the hard wind blew in, tonight. Tonight, you continued the conversation we started two years ago. You began as you had begun all those uncountable hours ago, teasing me into white heat. I allowed you to do so, even after saying I wouldn’t. Since going against my better judgment lately seems to be my regular judgment, I let you talk me to it. Your words, rough and tumble, scraping away the past two years.

I dared you to make it real, and you did, as best people can who are 50 miles apart on a weeknight. You called me, not to lose a dare, and I admit being surprised when "Piano Man" floated up from my phone. I answered breathless and needy, with the honesty of too may cigarettes in my voice. Truth, you told, of a thousand evenings. Details of a million moments, that I too held so sacred. In your timid and raspy voice, you confessed as you talked me to the precipice. Confessed to it all, like a man dying in one hour, and I came to the sound of your prophecy.

So it begins? Your post script sounded a lot like the future is inferred. I know, it was 2:30, and tomorrow will bring with it not only the sun, but the shining of light upon those things said and done in the dark of night. I just don’t know Jamie. This is all new territory for you and I, and I don’t know what the road ahead looks like.

We said our goodnight and sweet dreams, like all those other thousand nights.  I lian here, wracking sobs of release from years of holding it within.  I have now answers, but I forgot the questions.