a few years ago, i was pals with max, the fellow that lived across the street from my apartment near ocad. he was friends with my roomates, and had long-standing romantic designs on my near-oblivious self. we always had exceptional hangouts, though because of said (lamentably unreturned) designs, any comfortable pause in the conversation was typically loaded with unacknowledgable mutual angsts. resultantly, there's a funny conversational dynamic that's developed with mister max wherein these silences have been all but completely omitted. discussion trots at such a lively pace with him that i forget how comparatively difficult it is to talk to everybody that isn't max. so odd!
hangouts ebbed when we stopped living in such close proximity, but i saw him this afternoon on a weekend in toronto and it was swell. i'm glad to have seen him before i trade continents.