Scout: DJ Mase
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It was a few years ago now that we first met. I remember it was late summer, but not quite fall…that strange season when the leaves look tired and worn; not yet beautiful again. (The next time I saw you they were gorgeous…I recall it as fondly as the first.)

  

When I try to recall what it was that “Struck me about you” I am at an utter loss. I could take a stab at a few, but it would really be nothing more than that…a mere punch in the dark, a grasping at straws, a weak and ill informed effort to hold oil slipping through my fingers, but I’ll amuse you, that’s why you came after all…

  

I could offer the dazzling (and somewhat startling) reality that you had always been there. Silently sleeping, never calling for the attention you so deserved; a peaceful noble giant resting calmly under the starry expanse. I recall that thought nearly ruining me – while standing at Tunnel View – as my mind feebly mumbled to itself, “Seriously, has this always been the case, has this always been a reality so close at hand? How am I so thick that I have yet to realize this?”

  

Or, I could offer the condition of your vastness, yet deep intimacy; the winding and twisting, the heights and depths, the marveling crowds and deafeningly silent meadows. Never has such a feeling of expanse been so well wrapped in cozy comfort. It was as if you were a shape-shifter that transformed during the blinks, re-focuses, and re-framing moments of my eye, and at each shift you were exactly what my eye hoped to see.

  

While the former two are good and true statements, perhaps the most impossibly good thing about you is the way that I miss you when you are gone. I missed you before we met, that is true, but it was a missing that exists in an undiscovered place, thus it is easier to accept. Now that I have met you (that I have known you) I miss you from deep within and that is a bittersweet state of being. The bittersweet that demands an analog photo that I can tuck into a crack on my dashboard so it’s never far from my line of sight.

  

It is bitter because every time I have to leave, I ache.

  

Yet, it is sweet because you will always be there, my sleeping giant.