Last night I wished I could speak Portuguese.
Tonight my Special Agent friend called to tell me that he just returned from Brazil. He doesn't know Portuguese either, but for this trip he didn't need it. Instead, he wished that he knew how to speak Norwegian. Because he ended up on a rockclimbing excursion (that I like to think I help inspire) with a fabulous Norwegian woman. My Special Agent friend shared with me he'll probably never see again, not because he doesn't want to, but rather because of the realities of life's circumstances.
It was one of those almost love stories.
We all have them, don't we? Those times (which is seldom for me) when there is some sort of initial chemistry, but for whatever reason it just doesn't pan out to being anything more. Someone loses interest, someone moves away, someone gets bored, someone is actually just super charming and is able to create that chemistry with nearly every person of the opposite sex (and sometimes the same sex too.)
It's confusing, actually, and disappointing as well. But thankfully by now I've had enough of those "almost" something more stories that I've learned to be less expectant. It's not that I'm jaded, but rather I'm cautious in my hopefulness. Which, for me, is a good and healthy thing.
And, right now, as life might have it, I'm hopeful once more.