It's the summer of 2005 and I'm visiting a friend, someone I've known for over twenty-five years. We had a relationship once upon a time. Twice upon a time, actually. We tried again, a dozen years after that summer of '79. Love doesn't conquer all.
We're sitting on his porch; the soundtrack of our lives is coming through the screen door behind us. We talk of books we've read, movies we've seen, crazy stuff that's happening in the world. He has a whiskey coke sitting next to him. I reach over once in awhile and, with his permission, take a sip. He always offers me a drink, I always say no, and then I always reach over and take a sip from his. It's just what we've been doing for a very long time.
Crickets are chirping in the grass as the moon comes up over the pines across the road. We sit and watch it rise. Creedence Clearwater Revival is on the radio, asking again and again, "Who'll Stop the Rain?" as time marches on. In large and small increments we watch it go, like a movie we saw years before, like a book we once read in school.
Now, it's getting very late. We're way past the whiskey, and it's time for me to go. We walk quietly down the steps, across his yard, and to the gate. He's walked me to this gate more times than it's possible to count. As I walk through I turn and, at the same time, we say to each other, "Deja vu all over again."
Here's John Fogerty and his song/video, "Deja Vu All Over Again:"
Maybe love does conquer all.