There Are No Rules

This morning, my friend, Bek arrived at my house as planned.

“As planned” should be taken to mean: She texted me a few days ago, and inquired as to my plans on Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday. I, in turn, inquired of my calendar, which stated in the invisible letters of nothingness that I was perfectly free. I then inquired of the household if they had any plans that would prevent the success of a friendly invasion. I was informed that there were no such events. So, I texted Bek back and told her that I had no plans for Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday, although I suspected we were about to make some. And then we made some plans.

We texted back and forth for a little while. Bek discussed her packing list and any additions I might make. I informed her that I had responsibilities at home that would keep us from going out anywhere on Tuesday. I made meal menus to make sure we would have food to eat.

Bek texted me when she left her house. She arrived within an hour of when she expected to, delayed only by a GPS system that chose to malfunction at the exact moment when she passed out of familiar territory. We spent the afternoon and evening cooking, talking, and laughing through the hours.

This evening, my friend, Kels arrived at my house as planned.

“As planned” should be taken to mean: She didn’t text me. She didn’t call. She didn’t tell me she was coming. She rang my doorbell and grinned in through the window.

Months ago, she joked that she might just show up when she felt like it. Months ago, she and I jumped in a car and ran to Bek’s to arrive on her porch with no warning. Months before, she and I raced the other direction up the coast and crashed an old roommate’s Halloween Party unannounced. For months, we have looked sideways at the other and noticed the same glint that meant that anything was possible.

Because there are no rules. And we belong here.


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