 |
| Unfriendly Stranger |
It was the late time I physically saw you. A day you did everything you could to avoid me. You lied, you mislead, and you did what you wanted to. Shame I didn't say anything that day. I do wonder, if you knew that would be the last time we'd ever see each other.
You came back from your party, and I might as well have not been there. I like Bobby; he is pretty cool. But I hope you know, I had gone to see you. I guess I should have known. I should have seen the signs.
The photo above, is the only photo I took that day. And that was before your bloody party. Interesting the symbolism and title that goes with it. Funny, it didn't occur to me at the time that it was what it was all about.
That night, was a low point. I said I'd text you when I got home. I drove too fast into the darkness to the west. Hiding on a Mountain View Corridor. I turned around, and stopped for a moment. I texted you that I was home. Then I drove around for a little longer, listening to Booker T Jones, and Mayer Hawthorne. Then I went home. I'm not sure what I did that night. I think I might have had a drink. I was into drinking to kill the pain at that point. I always drank alone, at home, because I felt safe. I never drank around you or your friends, because I always valued being able to leave, over the "fun" of social drunkenness.
November 24th:
The next day, I knew we'd not go to the barn. If you did, I wasn't invited. I was glad of it. I had gotten sick of taking photos of horses long ago.
 |
| Sunset Explorer |
The difference in the photos, is drastic. Astounding almost. Black and white, darkness and hostility, vs colorful, full of life, and a passion.
The Ian you knew, is dead. He died. He was killed. He was murdered.
This Ian, is different. I like him more. He is happier. He isn't alone all the time.
