Then there are those very early morning moments when the tears are caught, just there, in that space behind your throat above your chest, pushing hard against your heart, making it difficult to breathe. The cold unforgiving Utah morning air is biting against your cheeks, the dark sky is pressing down, the stars still sparkle, but it all feels just a tad lonely, a little bit empty, the city is truly cold.
But into your head pops the tried and true image of the gorgeous, toned and tanned half-naked hippie wearing only his flouncy pink skirt that he no doubt snatched from some sweet girl dancing near him the night before as he explains to the police officer that that pink skirt? It's the only piece of clothing he currently has.
Instead of tears, you surprise the silence with your own laughter, gasp for air, and thank the gods that your soul brother, NakedIan, is such a dear sweet part of your life.
