Love story, maybe

Last night Andrew and I drove up to Twin Peaks to look at the sunset. In front of us, the following scene unfolds:

Guy – Hey. You’re in my time lapse.

Girl – So sorry! (starts getting up.)

Guy – Don’t worry about it. It’s a feature.

Girl laughs.

Guy – Alison?

Girl – (Freaked out) Yes. How did you know?

Guy – Are you Alison? (Removes his hat and glasses.) It’s Chuck!

Girl – What? Chuck!

I (excitedly) point out we are in the presence of a nascent romance: two people who knew each other long ago find each other at sunset 10 years later. 

Naturally, Instead of looking at the view, we watch them. We hope to witness them inching closer together, possibly kiss.

We get hungry and end up leaving before we find out how the story unfolds.

Over dinner we toast to love.

It's not hope

I don't think that hope was what was left at the bottom of Pandora's box. Hope implies the expectation that things will turn out a desired way. I believe that what we find is instead a mix of trust + faith + surrender. A blind sense that it will all work out even if we don't yet know exactly how. I bet something got lost in translation.

Soul Mate

On the bus today I overheard two women talking really unfavorably about another. I was going to post a transcript of the exchange but decided it made me sad.

I can't imagine why we'd resort to tearing each other down when the greatest gift we have ever been given is each other. Girlfriends are soul mates.