Maybe

Perhaps you are in proximity. Perhaps you are not. Perhaps you are on the other side of the world. Geographically. Somewhere serving the Lord, sleeping in a mice-sized-termite-invested hammock. Or maybe you are in your apartment wondering about the future He promised. Maybe you are playing your guitar in the rain because sometimes the sky's sadness needs someone to share it with. Perhaps you are taking a swig of Coca Cola in a glass bottle because everyone knows it tastes so much better in the bottle. Maybe you are questioning the probability that our world moves and turns and flips in a series of cycles, randomly, sporadically, singing the same song but in a different key. Perhaps your head has just reunited with its pillow friend, and sleep is a swinging and whirring lullaby away. Or maybe you are doing something dull, a hated responsibility, like reinstalling printer ink. Perhaps you are reconnecting with a person you realized you never had truly connected with in the first place. Maybe you are out walking beautifully aimless.

and maybe, like me, you are pondering your love of Christmas music while dependently staring at the night sky.

I suppose it doesn't matter what either of us are doing.

Maybe I just thought whatever it was, should have been happening here tonight.