Mike was visiting a town 40 minutes over for a business trip. When he reached out to me and suggested we meet up I agreed immediately. But deep down I didn't know what I wanted. More accurately I knew what I wanted but realized that I wanted more than I could have. 

I'd begun a new job recently. Before then most my 

calories

came from the food banks. Without all those cost-free Chef Boyardee's, Bush's beans, sliced bread, peanut butter, and dry pasta I would've died from starvation long ago. But here I was. 38 years old, still breathing air, drinking water, and eating food. 

After my job I started buying my own food. Fresh food. But interestingly I felt poorer than ever. I'd somehow gone 35 years of my life not caring about money in the way others did, during which all I thought I needed was enough to pay for meals and rent. Never a worry for tomorrow. Then something happened around 35 that struck sharp into my marrow a sense of poverty. More on that later, that's a story in itself.

By the time Mike happened to be nearby enough that I couldn't refuse seeing him I was lucky enough to have this job to pay for the lunch we were going to. It didn't end up mattering because he got the bill anyhow, but you now you can't just show up expecting that. You got to show up prepared to pay for your own lunch. 

At one point in our lives I could say we were really close. Then around 35 I started to feel the drowning sensation of falling into an inescapable whirlwind. I shut almost everybody out. Before this was the last time I saw him.

But back to what I wanted that I couldn't have. I wanted what a lot of us crave I guess. The ability for the past to have gone differently. The ability for the present to be different than now. In that way I'm not much different than your average person.