I met you at a concert. Totally random and incredibly by chance. Had we stood next to any other person and any other time, we'd never know each other. Had you not offered to let me hang with you and your boys and become part of the "circle", we'd never know each others' names. Was it supposed to happen? If I really believed in fate I'd say yes. How else do you explain two people meeting in a crowd of 40,000 and just... clicking? I didn't want to be a bother. You had your boys with you, but they were cool and let me (and my girl) tag along all night. We protected each other, the five of us. Lots of yelling "Heads up!!" and pushing and pulling and blocking and even that one time I almost got in a fight. You looked over at me after every song to make sure I was okay. You grabbed me when I almost fell. You knew I didn't need to be watched, but you did it anyway. I didn't tell you at the time, but I noticed and it was sweet. I even told you my real name, instead of the fake one I'd used about a dozen times already that day. We left each other awkwardly, with a promise to try and find each other the next day. In the back of my mind, I thought it would never happen. How do you find someone in such a huge crowd? But... it happened. I saw you in the parking lot. There was a chance you wouldn't be down in the pits again since your tickets were for seats instead. I didn't anticipate finding your boys again 3 hours later. One of them told me you said to tell me "Hi." I secretly grinned and tried to spot you in the crowd again. You ran up on us shortly after and I was relieved. We hung out all day and you even got a little jealous when I asked the very tall, large man for a piggy back and he gave me one. I teased you for it. You left early with your boys, I stayed behind with my girl to watch the rest of the shows. I'll admit by the time you left I was a little drunk and not thinking clearly. You asked if you'd ever see me again and sadly I responded, "Probably never." At the time, I was okay with that. We had a good time, a lot of laughs, a lot of bruises and a few beers. It was bittersweet. I took your phone and dialed my number... twice because I messed it up the first time. The call never went through so after you left I knew it was all in your hands. I didn't have any expectation of hearing from you. I got hurt in a pit after you left. Sliced me elbow open when I fell. You weren't there to catch me. My drive home was long and my head was filled with thoughts of all the crazy things that happened that weekend. I didn't hear from you. I wanted to. Three days went by and nothing... then four... then seven... and on day ten I got a text. "Did you guys make it home from the show okay?" I didn't recognize the number so I responded with, "Yep... but who is this?" I knew it was you. It had to be. Everyone else I know already knew I was back. We talked for awhile that night. I go to bed super early, you're up all night. For the next 3 weeks my sleep would suffer from talking until after 11 when I knew I had to be awake shortly after that. You don't like talking about yourself but you like to ask a lot of questions. I tried to weasel details out of you. It sort of worked. You mention you'll be deployed soon. You can't say exactly when and I don't think twice about it. Another few conversations and you mentioned it again. This time, my stomach drops a little. I'm worried. I don't like it. You say you won't talk about it until you absolutely have to. I thought about you a lot. I don't know exactly why, but I do. We quoted song lyrics and movies to each other and I teased you for spelling my name wrong. Then Saturday. I'm still not a fan of that Saturday. Our vibe had changed. You didn't say it, but somehow I knew that was it. You waited until very late at night, 20 minutes before you had to leave, to tell me that it was "the night we haven't been talking about." Immediately I teared up. It worries me when I know people going over to Iraq or Afghanistan. I told you I knew, that I felt it earlier in the day. You joked to lighten the mood but I'm already in a dark place. You said you'd call me as soon as you can, but it will be awhile before that happens. It won't be soon enough. I'll probably worry until the day you say you're coming back. The next day, I must have checked my phone a thousand times. I knew you wouldn't be sending me anything, but I hoped that the night before was just a cruel dream. My phone is eerily quiet now. My sleep schedule is back to normal. I don't like it.
I barely know you, but I miss you.
