Every day I fight for
all my future somethings.
-Natasha B.

My coworker looked at me today, briefly, before looking through the windshield of the truck and frowning at the sky.
He said, "I think I've been stagnating here. I need mountains."

And he said it in that way that comforts me in knowing that he's alert and oriented times four. He said it like he's always thought it and just now ventured to put it out into the open air, letting it grow in the bright Colorado sunshine. He was made for mountains, and has always lived beneath them here. Things have to change and they will, as he figures them out and steps over them, and it's things like that that bring life back into focus. Like a man who doesn't need any other woman than the one who's been beside him since they said "I do." Like someone who smiles on a Monday, simply because they love Mondays. Like a nice cozy Mexican blanket warmed by the sun all day to read on.

I worked almost exclusively with another coworker yesterday. He works for the weekends (but never does catch up to them) and mumbles half his words because he thinks that silence is a cage. And he reads Sports Illustrated and talks about teams he doesn't care about, and how the food wasn't that great at a restaurant the other day, and sometimes admits through his missed connections that he doesn't understand forever with someone, or dare to try to reach his goal. He sounds like an old man, and I'm sad for him every day, every minute. I'm sad that he's missing it, because he's too preoccupied with who knows...moneyworkreallifeworkworldproblems. He can't sit still, because his worth is tied to his physical movement.

When lukewarm thoughts stir out of his lips, I close my eyes for a fraction of a second and silently shake off the tired feeling of hopelessness, remembering the man who rediscovered his first love and is burning to return to his mountains. Let the fuel set the dry, bloodless timber alight.