  So, you were here last week. Here, in the midst of my world. Talking to my friends. Most likely drinking coffee at my Caribou. Perhaps sitting in my church. But I never heard from you. I never saw you. It kills me that you didn't call, didn't show up, didn't search me out.
And thank God you didn't. Let me hide in my reveries of a chance meeting on a Chicago sidewalk. Let me cling to my dreams of an overheard voice in a crowded Starbucks (up north, of course). Let me find you in the illusion of snowy streets in the Windy City, but let me never find you here.
This is my world. Soon I'll start a new life in Chicago, and if you're a part of that, I'll be living in a dream come true. But soon is not now. Now, my world needs me. It needs me to live in the present, not in the past, nor in the future. You visit like a flash of lightening, brilliant and passionate, yet leaving destruction in your wake. I need my life to be whole right now. It kills me that you didn't call. It would have killed me if you did. 
