BEN

Okay, not only did someone write something about me in the workshop I wrote about someone from the workshop. It's funny because someone thought that I might have feelings for this person after reading this but I don't. I do, however, want to get to know him. If you've ever met anyone that just makes you want to get to know them but won't let you in then you know what I mean. Anywho, since I posted what someone wrote about me I thought I'd post what I wrote about someone else. ENJOY!

Meeting Ben

How did I meet Ben? You know that moment in Hook when the lost boy searches grown Peter’s face for the young light hearted Peter they once knew. The one where he shuffles his face around and find’s him in a smile. “Oh, there you are Peter!” It was like that.

I asked him half of 20 questions to which he gave half of 20 answers and I shuffled them around trying to recreate the picture. The interview on the couch where we seemed to connect and become, at the very least, acquaintances; but then I heard him speak. Heard him create emotion and – there you are, Ben. And there you had been this whole time.

Ben/been the small town boy with big soccer rock star dreams. Well respected professor, statistician and now poet although he isn’t sure yet. He’s Ben/been wondering how morals strictly taught can be practiced so loosely. Hoping to practice what he preaches but isn’t sure if he believes it. Thinking they can’t see this. Ben/been marathon running from one accomplishment to the next, adding yet another page to his already extensive resume. Realizing he’d much rather be free running from one moment to the next, filling his living room with pictures to prove that he actual lived, instead of living in an empty room less decorated than a tomb.

There he his, learning something different everyday adopting and adapting to whatever comes into play, celebrating the suck the whole way. He knows he’s not perfect in any way. And like his most recent tattoo he’s Ben/been trying to break out and break through to this whole new Ben/been trying to break out and breakthrough in this whole new space where he can break down to break through to the deeper side of you. And I’m glad he still carries his big boy soccer rock star dreams with him but I think he’s going to take on a different stage and do it with a page.

Because there was Ben, using words skillfully spun into gold to tie itty bitty knots to the deepest parts of my heart. Tugging ever so gently at first this thread to create the mood and then that thread slowly weaving a tapestry of raw emotion, and before I know it Roberta Flack and Lauren Hill are singing in my ears. Somehow he found my letters and read each one aloud. So I went out and found the back door he created to sneak in and tie those pretty little knots, but instead of sealing it shut I labeled it BEN since only he knows how to open it.

And that’s how I met Ben.

Answering half of 20 questions and telling me not too much about himself. He’d have rather given me folders framing accomplishments and diplomas then bid me read his resume. But folders can’t make a man like a story can. Resumes don’t explain someone outside of interview and though that’s all this was to him, I asked for pictures. Not picture frames.

Which is all I got until he read that day. He turned answers into puzzle piece and put the corners in their place. I dumped the rest on the floor next to his door and I’ve been waiting for him to turn frame into picture again but I don’t know if he intends to. Still, I wait.