Timecapsule

One night, when I was in the third grade, my mother walked into my bedroom and asked what I was doing awake at 3:30a in the morning.  I was sitting at my desk trying to write, re-write, fold, re-fold and fold again the PEHERRFEHECT note to a boy I...liked? Respected? High-fived?   Mike Norwood.  As I recall, he had dark reddish hair and freckles and a kind, calm, old-school-pre-crazy Mel Gibson cocky sense of humor that made something inside me want to chase him and then throw things at him. I remember walking home with my best friend Stephanie Lyons and after I threw a pathetic snow(eye)ball at him across someone's yard she said, "Why did you DO that?"  To which the obvious fell out of my mouth. 

"BECAAusse  I like him!"

I still have a tiny little torn piece of paper he stuffed inside an empty gumball-machine-trinket-capsule.   He managed to get it in my hands after passing it through several other little hands under several other little desks without the teacher seeing.  


"Will you go with me?  Check Yes or No."


And of course there were two square boxes drawn under this penciled sentence you can barely read now since the small thing was opened and squashed back into it's home so many times. I still have it.  The 'survey' tactic must have been over my head.


We stayed in the same class for three years until Junior High hit and I literally never saw him again.  But during those three years, even though we never really 'went' anywhere together, I remember many many many knowing glances, chases and laughs on the playground.


Sometimes you just know you know someone and know they know you.  And sometimes that is incredibly beautiful, or scary, or threatening, or just damn relaxing.  Allies and annoyances.  I think we instinctively know our kind before we even know our kind and talk our heads into trying to be like other kinds.  


Of course we need to explore the other clans. [We never would have figured out smokes on our own.] Each of us can be so fundamentally exactly the same.  We each have to fill our bellies, our lungs, our minds and our hearts in order to survive. And why? Still waiting to find that clan...


But.  As beautiful and interesting as that is...isn't it amazing when someone just knows your soul?  And you know they always will and always have?  And isn't it amazing how little "how's your day's?" and "Happy Birthday's!" and "I hate Sarah Palin's" really matter?  Like they are little red, cellophane pieces wrapped around little red cinnamon candies.  [Don't ask.] 


I'm a lucky gal.  I've had this feeling many times in my life.  Thank you Cinnamon Candy Pals.  [I just said that.]