April 22, 2010
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Ten years ago this past Monday, I kissed AJ (or AJ kissed me, I guess it depends on who you ask!) on a street corner on a gray rainy day in San Francisco, only to have him leave the following day for a four-day cycling trip that he had previously scheduled. It’s the sort of memory that is both crystal clear and nostalgically hazy at the same time. If it were being filmed for a romantic comedy (the sort of film that AJ and I specifically avoid watching) there would be this sort of grainy feel, with the background blurred while the camera zooms in on us, under an umbrella kissing, traffic lights and car lights multicolored specks in the background, an atmosphere of uncertainty, of what was going on, where things were going, what it all meant. There would be melodramatic symphonic music swelling (probably scored by John Williams because AJ love Star Wars) at the kiss moment. Then we would part, walking to our separate apartments alone.