Musings from the Shitter: Volume Thirteen

Ichi Go Ichi E

I caught up with a friend. The kind of friend I don’t know how I still get to keep. No real reason why they’re still here...just kindness, plain and simple. Most people pass by, nod politely, and disappear. Not this one. Always time. Always space.

Every time we talk, I walk away with something I didn’t have before. A little wisdom tucked in my pocket. And maybe, just maybe, I’m not the asshole I wake up thinking I am.

We talked about ichi go ichi e. One time. One meeting. This moment’s got a shelf life, and it ain’t long. Those words...they helped me hold onto what I couldn’t before...that the everyday...isn’t bullshit....It’s the whole damn point.

We played a friendly on Saturday. No pressure. No scoreboard worth remembering. Just a bunch of broken souls chasing a ball, laughing like idiots. I laughed more than I should have...the kind of laughter that sneaks up on you and knocks the wind out of your chest. Fun. Yeah, that’s what it was.

It rained. We called it quits early. Wet, freezing, and somehow still smiling.

I didn’t miss the competition. What I missed was that laugh...the kind that doesn’t come from winning, but from being in the mess with people who get it. Who get you. That raw, unfiltered joy.

Next day, I showed up as a substitute coordinator. For another team. Sounds like bullshit, right? But I have walked into a sisterhood that never asked me to knock. They just opened the door and let me in. And damn, that shit hits me like a slow, deep drag on a joint.

Friendship...the real kind...it’s a beast. It doesn’t whisper sweet nothings. It bares its teeth and snarls at the world: “Back the fuck off.” It’s primal. Like wolves. Like women who’ve bled, cried, and still laugh loud as hell.

You don’t put it on like armour. It is the armour. It wraps itself around you when you’re not looking, when you don’t even know you need it.

And in all that chaos, I found something I hadn’t tasted in ages: joy.

Not the loud, flashing kind you see on a billboard or in a movie. The quiet shit...the kind that creeps up in the backseat of the car, in a look that says everything without saying a word, in a breath doesn't hurt.

I don’t know how to tell them.
I hope they know.

We caught up again... my friend and I... After the sub coordinator gig. No fanfare. Just a hug that didn’t need to say shit. Talked more. Laughed more. For once, I wasn’t somewhere else in my head. I was there. Right there.

Happy in that messy, fucked-up moment. Being present.

Ichi go ichi e...one time, one meeting. One shot to be here. Maybe that’s the whole goddamn point.

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