Hannah Days

There comes a day, every summer, which I spend with Hannah, possibly some other people depending on the year, not looking at my phone, usually involving Taco John’s in some way, which always means long, healing, beautiful conversations about everything under the sun, all the things I can’t think of when I think of having good conversations.

Today was that day.

It was lovely.

The thing about Hannah, and this is not a thing that is inherent in Hannah herself necessarily but in how I react to her, is that talking to her makes all the ordinary things that have happened to me over the few days preceding seem relevant and beautiful. Sometimes I do think of things or stumble across them and say, “Oh! I must remember to tell Hannah that!”, but that is rare. What happens more often is that Hannah and I are talking away about whatever it is and suddenly I remember something recent and small and say, “Oh! This happened! This is relevant! I can talk about this now!”

And it is really quite wonderful, because as I said, it makes all the ordinary things seem relevant and beautiful. And it reminds me of what I wrote a while back about Hannah being the ontological audience for something else I wrote. It takes Hannah to give me a context in which small, silly interactions and happenstances can mean something in a larger cosmos. Which is just another way of saying that she is the point in the universe from which everything makes sense.

And that is why I love her.

There also seems to come a day, every summer (well, not every summer but near enough recently), in which I get a message over a social network from someone who is flirting, in varying degrees of innocence.

Today is also that day. It’s weird, and kind of nice, and still very very weird.

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