type as in archetype, pt. 1

A memory:We didn't mean to meet. I say that like you normally intentionally meet people. Like everything in the world isn't just a series of perfect accidents. But we sat down across from each other and you know how sometimes you're just on the edge of the conversation with someone else? And then we went to the party that night.

It was so late by the time we realized what time it was. From one of those awkward conversations where one of you is halfway out the door to sitting on the front steps with a cigarette. One of us glanced at the clock across the street and said "That can't be the time," but it was. And one of my friends was stumbling his way home. I stopped him and asked if we could sleep on the floor, and he was apparently too drunk to notice the "we" but neither of us were.

I don't know if I actually slept. It was cold and the floor was hard and we just talked until the sun came up and the trains were running again, and with a smile and a "We should do this again some time" it was six months until the next time we spoke.

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