I think about you in the quiet of the evening. After the excitement of the day has worn off. When I have thought about everything and everyone else. I feel like I’m under water in the deep end of the pool, somewhere between 3rd and 6th grade. I’m sitting on the bottom (because I can) and a friend has tossed something in from the side. It sinks, but slowly. Swaying back and forth on the way down, leaving a trail of tiny bubbles, which seem to be in no great hurry to surface. I lean forward, holding my breath longer than before, my legs beginning to float above me. The goal is to identify it and come to the surface with the answer. The answer is you. And now I’m holding my breath even longer. The muffled underwater sounds letting me gather my thoughts in a way I can’t do above the surface. It is calm down here, and I wish I could stay. The thoughts are pleasant, and I smile. I remember smiling underwater. The feel of the water trying to find its way past my teeth and into my mouth. Underwater smiles are comical, and short-lived. Oh well, I know where to find you now. Tomorrow night, I will hold my breath and dive in again. This time I may take some weights and oxygen and stay awhile.