The Tale of Two Margarets: Part II

Sometimes you meet people and your heart instantaneously lights up. 

And when that happens, you do everything in your power to not let them go. 

A little over twelve years ago, that happened in Chicago for me, when I met Meg. 

She wore her hair in waves and her jeans had holes at the knees. My heart lit up when I met her, I knew she would make my life richer. If I'm honest, I actually remember thinking to myself, I am going to befriend that gal.

While in San Francisco, we actually reminisced about that day. About how much we've changed. No, scratch that: morphed, grown, evolved, into more purer versions of ourselves.

I like myself when I'm around her, because I recognize myself. I am me; which sometimes leads me to wonder why such an awesome person as herself still keeps me around.

It may have something to do with our shared interests.

Wine.

Wandering.

Good food.

Fresh air.

Coffee.

Beautiful buildings.

Did I mention wine?

If I'm honest, this trip was a little too perfect. Though still elated when I came back - from the shared food, laughter, and photographs - I grew almost immediately sad. Post-vacation blues? Coming back from endless sunshine to more clouds and rain? 

Likely also missing my friend, now over a thousand miles away until the next time we can engineer a meeting.

I hope we can come back here again, my Megara. 

But even if we don't, I'll remember this forever.