Dear Sera,

And so I spent the weekend in Bisbee, AZ. And I spent a lot of time thinking of you.And I spent a lot of time realizing how much I miss you.

You see, Bisbee is at its heart, a small communal town. It is filled with new and aged hippies, motorcycle gangs, and a small population of wealthy summer homes.
You can go down the road a few miles and slip a toe into Mexico.You can walk up to a party on the street and be offered free beer, or wine, or pot.You can walk into a grungy little store front and find Roger and his Hippie's Bizarre Bazar. The few shelves are covered in cheap geegaws from Peru and three hour incense. According to the picture on the wall, Roger's not only the owner, but the employee of the month...easy enough when you're the only employee, I guess.

But what I can do is look down into mineral stained maw of the abandoned strip mines and see the colors of thrown pots.I can look at the old shattered walls with graffiti covered attempts at wisdom and remember doodles in a notepad.I can catch a scent coming through the trees behind the tiny grocers and think of incense and laughter as I swirled a golden pattern across her face with all the wrong make-up...but she still managed to be breathetaking despite my crude artistry.

I imagined you living in one of the small cottages that cling to the side of the mountain like barnacles. I imagined you calling me some quiet day and looking out your window about 2 hours later to see me clambering up a thousand steps to knock on your door.We'd sit and laugh and drink local wine while we caught up with all we had done, and all we had managed to never complete.We'd reassure each other that we were a long way from any sort of end. That there was still time to decide what we'd be when we grew up.We'd wander out the door to slip and stumble up the mountain, through the backyards of unsuspecting neighbors (who'd not mind our intrusion anyway) to walk just a little further than we should. We'd pick at random plants and wonder at thier names or possible uses, only to slowly shred them as we continued our trek to no place in particular.Tired and glad the return trip was downhill, we'd make our way to some small shop to collect a random sampling of herb scented munchies and another bottle of wine...or two.

I wanted to spend the day with you. To talk without feeling self-conscious. I wanted to ride the currents of a silent lightening strike of creativity. To laugh at things that normally seem silly...maybe even stupid. I wanted someone to share secrets with. To speak of girlish crushes with the a voice that swung between simple sighs, frustrated groans, and the silly squeals of toe curling libidinous thoughts.I missed the excitement of grabbing onto the next big idea and playing it out until it broke or bored us. To throw it all on the table like a cheap deck of cards and play at divining a future.

Have you ever had an ache that ran so deep it left you wanting to weep and run wild and shout with joy all at the same time?

That's how much I missed you, Sera.

...Yeesh. You've made me all mushy now.