Wesley

When I was a child, and by a child I mean in 7th grade, I had a really wonderfully imaginative best friend.

The two of us didn't really do much except for sit around and dream up the most magnificent futures full of garden parties, beautiful old houses in exotic locations, and the two best friends,James and Wesley

, who were going to fulfill the boyfriendly aspects of said lives.

Yes, we created imaginary boyfriends.

I am not embarrassed
{except for quite a bit, I really am}

Now that the facts are in the open:

Wesley is
mostly Holden Caulfield with a little less mental illness and a little more hopelessly in love with me.
He is a genius and doesn't know how to handle it, causing him to be socially awkward.
He can play the guitar like a mf riot
He looks slightly reminiscent of James Mcavoy
He is secretly hilarious
He wants to live anywhere but the U.S.

One time I was in an airport and over the intercom a lady announced, "Would Wesley and James please come to the desk located at gate 32D." My heart stopped. I wanted to drop everything and run as fast as I could to the desk located at gate 32D. But I couldn't because I had a plane to catch. Don't we all?

For me, that plane is N.
N. is my {real life} boyfriend. He is not Wesley, but he is everything I need. He is not particularly mysterious or hilarious or a genius, but he is truly, really, very much so what I need in this life. He has other-worldly wisdom, kindness and gentleness unmatched, the best and most sincere laugh, and a deep sense of humility.


Life never turns out the way you dreamed it might, but I don't think that is any good reason to quit dreaming. While part of me will always have a spot for Wesley, I'm glad he isn't real. N. is reality and it is good.


Now, I stumbled upon the picture this post starts off with. I saw it and just stared. That is him, that is Wesley.

Hello Wesley,

What we had was really magical. But I had this plane to catch and it's
taking me somewhere, to home. To a place I was created for, but have never
been before.
Please take care and send my love to James.

All the Best,
M.


What is a plane you had to catch? Or rather, what is a dream you moved past to experience good reality?

Wasting Time

I needed to waste time.

I was supposed to meet a few friends for Guacamole at some generic, yet delicious Mexican place at about 9: 15 and I knew I was going to be early. Too early.
I pulled out of the neighborhood I currently reside in (the minority of the time) and noticed this road. It wasn't necessarily a side road. I'd seen cars purposefully take the turn onto it before, I just had never done so myself. So I decided that What The Heck, I'll drive down this random road I'd never notice before and see where it put me. It bent and curved under a canopy of dark trees, giving no sign of where it was going to pop me out at. And then it ended, and I was so much closer to my destination than I had hoped to be. DRAT
I had found a Short Cut.
At any other time I would have been pleasantly surprised, but I was hoping for more of a scenic-drive, a Long Cut if you will. What else was there to do but continue on my way? Driving through downtown, I noticed a simple brick building with it's lights on. The paned windows were propped open and various gadgets were hanging in the window. What were they? I can't really say, just technical, mechanical silhouetted do-dads. I thought it looked really lovely. I thought, "I should take a picture of this." And given my need to waste some time, I pulled a 'U' and parked and walked to take this picture. I turned on my camera and got about 5 worthless shots of the place and my battery died. DRAT. I suppose it looked better in person anyway, as most things do. The more I think about it the more I remember this foggy little memory of going to that building when I was in elementary school. Signs were made there, I can't really say for sure, but I think nice and noble traffic and street signs were assembled there. I walked back to my car and saw that I had managed to waste more than enough time.
I was going to be late.
So I sped off, and was late but not too late, just the right amount of late where no one is particularly annoyed yet.

Later that night I caught on fire and now have these tiny little charred dots on my legs.
But that is an entirely different story for an entirely different day.



What was the last thing you were unfashionably late or early to?