waffle

I felt so disconnected, trying to sleep on the couch, listening to the sounds of friends laughter and music outside.

…

I was up at Tilden park today, for a pre-wedding barbecue. On the way up, we stopped and got out of the car to take in the view. As I walked toward the edge of the road, “Such Great Heights” started playing on my iPod. I smiled to myself as a memory came to me. It was one of two people sitting up at Tilden at night. The air had been clear and crisp, and looking down on Oakland we’d watched as the fog rolled in, slowly engulfing the city in a visually impenetrable white blanket of water suspended in the air.

Every time I visit Tilden, I remember that night. Nothing else really matters when you’re in love. I miss it.