Where were you yesterday afternoon? We were supposed to meet at the usual place. The grass flats were covered with water, the bait was everywhere, the sunset was beautiful but you weren’t there. I know you aren’t always the most reliable but dammit I was really expecting to show up this time. I sat there waiting all afternoon and into the evening and still you didn’t show. A few times I thought I saw you in the distance just to find out it wasn’t you but a mullet or some other less desirable species. To say I was disappointed is an understatement. I even wore my best fishing shirt for you. And you never showed up.
I flirted briefly with giving up on you completely. I thought “I don’t need this. This frustration just isn’t worth it.” But who am I kidding. You may not always be there for me, but when you are it’s nothing less than magical. I’m not ready to give up what we have and I probably never will be. As much as I hate to admit it, when the time is right I’ll be on that grass flat, fly rod in hand, looking and waiting for that next little piece of joy that you, and only you, can bring me. Why can’t I quit you?