I remember that night,
after the Olympics.
You sitting behind me,
and drumming your excitement out on my legs.
And then,
after we mixed up to sing songs,
I couldn't see you.
It's not as fun holding the hand of a stranger.
And,
there was so much emotion in that tiny room.
It seemed like not a single eye was dry,
and no one wanted the guitar to stop...
or their voices.
The counselors were even reluctant,
calling us out to friendship circle by our clans.
In their voices you could hear the longing,
to stay together,
for just one more verse.
But everyone left,
group by group,
shoulders shaking
hands over faces.
We were second to last,
and my eyes were brimming,
and even though I couldn't quite make sense of it,
something in me understood the pain and joy.

I found you as we left,
sobbing,
and trying to wipe at your eyes.
You saw me,
and your expression was the strangest thing,
like happiness through your tears.
I think.
You said, "Hey you,"
and hugged me.
I didn't know what to do.
I remember standing next to you,
and holding you and someone elses hand,
listening to your wavering voice,
as you tried to croak out taps.
Well, I sang extra loud for you.
But I didn't know what extra I could do,
when I heard you turn away after and say,
"Four years. My first tears in four years."
and then more quietly...
"I knew it would happen here."