I Don't Want to Change the Course of History...
On a sunny day in early September anything is possible.
The school year opens with a wave of possibilities. You see old friends, you talk about your summer, you dip your toe into a bunch of classes.
And the girl in the shorts playing Frisbee? She's important, she's part of it.
No one knows who she is, but the future unfolds in front of you and it's clear she'll be part of it.
So you watch for a while. And you imagine your life together stretching out before you -- one long extended wonderful life.
And mentally you laugh at yourself stretching your imagination so far into the future when it's based on nothing.
Then, uncharacteristically bold, you get up and march over there. Determined to talk to her, put a verbal down payment on that future together.
But when you get there, she's gone. And no one knows who she was or where she came from.
All that year you look for her, rushing over whenever anyone's playing Frisbee. But you never see her again.
Until 15 years later, you spot someone who looks just like her, playing Frisbee a thousand miles away. And you're halfway over to her when you realize it's not the girl you saw before. Because the girl you saw that one time is 15 years older.
And so are you. Even if you still feel the same. (Embedding's disabled, so you just have to click for a cool-ass video of long, uninterrupted steadicam shots.)
(h/t to Peter's Power Pop for turning me on to Thirsty Merc.)