This is an hour to wander. I'm at loose ends, odds with myself or just odd. The company's campus erupts with flowers, so I walk the paths while people hurry past, caught in complex conversations. I feel grateful for the sun and the blooming. I don't know how I'll find my way back to the building where Sevario is, but I find a pond and a bench and I sit and knit and feel absolutely out of place, and it's so nice out that I don't care.
His meeting has become a conference, so I will be here for a while, and I don't have a badge, because I hadn't thought of that. Eating and peeing become primary concerns. I ask a woman about a visitor's center, and she reels off the name of a building. I need a map. People aren't unfriendly, they're just distracted, or I'm the distraction.
I figure distracting a receptionist isn't so bad, and she gives me a map with the building circled. It's a jaunt, but I still have hours. So much for a day to spend with my--lover? We've been taking this very slow, and now it's too slow. I'm too into this to not know what it is.
Yuck, I'm starting to sound like pop-psychology, the dog-eared books that no one checked out of the high school library.
I think maybe we'll talk on the ride back. I'm ready to talk. Talk is not what I want.