MIDNIGHT CONFESSIONS

The old Grassroots song for some reason makes me think of a high school/juco friend. The last time I saw him, he was driving by an old high school girlfriend's house.

She lived on our street. It was 10 years after he had graduated. She didn't live there anymore. He didn't even live in town. He was married; in fact, he may have had his young daughter in the car with him. Memory doesn't serve.

There was nothing evil in his actions. No urging to re-new, no longing to go back. Wait a minute. How did I know? Did I tell you we only exchanged waves. That's true.

But I know Johnny. That's the way he is. He was merely reminiscing. Taking a look at where he'd been. What he had done.

I know that, how? Midnight confessions shared in either my car or his at the end of an evening. There was always a lot of bull, but if you sifted through it, deep feelings were revealed, though hidden. For some reason we found the other easy to confide in. He shared the loves of his life and I shared mine. We knew they would go no farther.

Though at one of my high school reunions, I broke the trust and told one of old loves how much he cared for her. She knew, of course. But my reminding her, made her day.

It's funny who we share with. And why. I still remember some of his girlfriends from back when. I imagine he could tell you about some of mine.