Ever since I was a little boy, I believed in signs. Something would come along and point me down the path I was supposed to take. When I was in sixth grade, my massive crush on Britney Spears (hey, she was cute back then) was preceded only by my crush on Britney Simmons, a girl in my class. This was way before I knew I was gay, but still, the fact that they had not only the same name, but the same initials as well, meant something. I spent hours doodling those initials on my planner, smiling to myself, knowing that if Britney Simmons ever saw them, I could simply tell her, "Britney Spears" and keep my secret to myself. If this was really a sign, we'd be together one day.

Well, obviously, it wasn't a sign that we'd be together. But to this day, I believe it was a sign of some sort. That maybe she was important to my development or something. There's a reason for everything, after all. Nothing happens without causing something else to happen, though we may not realize it until much, much later. It's like that thing Confucius (I think it was him; it might have been Buddha) said: A Butterfly flapping its wings in the East can cause a hurricane in the West. Small things can cause bigger things.

So I've developed quite an eye for my signs over the years. They don't show up very often (except for when I was pondering my sexuality; then, I couldn't get rid of the damn rainbows and pretty boys), but I figure I'd better keep my eyes open anyway. Daniel 'Snitch' Riccio knows that it's better to take the advice of the Divine when it's given; if you catch the signs, you know what God wants you to do.

Have you ever seen that movie Fools Rush In? When I saw that movie in ninth grade, it really kind of clinched things for me. At the very end, when Matthew Perry is riding to the airport and sees all the various signs, pictures of the Grand Canyon, bus ads, and a little Mexican girl in the airport... I remember smiling as I watched, knowing exactly what Perry's character was thinking. Signs are everywhere. When you see them that often, why deny them?

But I've never had an experience like this.

Halfway through my senior year of high school, I met Isaac 'Skittery' Tatum. He was a new student, coming into the creative writing club, of which I was vice president. I remember in a random peer edit once, I was assigned to look over one of his stories and I was just stunned by how talented he was; he wrote truly poetic prose, which is rare and admirable. But another thing that surprised me was his use of a ring in the story... the very same ring I had used in a story of my own not long before. He couldn't have read my story and stolen the description; he just moved here, plus I hadn't shown it to anyone yet.

And I knew it was a sign. I just didn't know what it meant.

I started talking to him, and was delighted to discover how much we had in common. He was fun to talk to, a good listener, and genuinely sweet. I thought that maybe if I wanted to, I could develop a crush very easily.

I showed him some of my own writing, and he liked it, so I asked if maybe he wanted to attempt writing one together; it was something I'd always wanted to try, and I figured I wouldn't find anyone else I'd like to do it with more. So when he said he was interested, I couldn't help smiling. It was too good.

So we started working together. Neither of us ever knew what was going to happen next, but we fed off of each other's ideas and input so well that it didn't really matter. The poetry of his words made me want to write better, to try and match up to his modernistic metaphors and eccentric similes, so I found myself thinking more about what I wanted to say. It was good for me, in a lot of ways.

We got to be very good friends. However, I found myself strangely depressed when I graduated that May and heard from him only once or twice over the summer. It was odd, how much I missed him, yet also missed the point at the same time.

One night, out of the blue, he called me and left a message on my cell: "Snitch, I'm sorry I haven't seen you or called you or anything in a while. It's just... been difficult. Doing this. I don't know. I just... I really, really like you, is all. Yeah. Okay. Now I feel stupid. I'll talk to you later, hopefully. Bye."

My hands were shaking. And what was so very bizarre about it all was how the song on my stereo changed at right that moment: Blue and Yellow - The Used:

"Should've done something

But I've done it enough

By the way your hands were shaking

Rather waste my time with you."

The signs were back. And he was everywhere.

Everything I did seemed to emblazon his picture in my head, even reading my horoscopes in the morning (I used to read them just for a laugh, but suddenly, the seemed to reflect everything that was going on), replaying those words over and over again: "I really, really like you," until it seemed I might spontaneously combust just to escape from him.

Until I realized, maybe I don't want to escape.

He scared me at first; it seemed to come out of nowhere, nothing leading up to it, and it was only after thinking about it that I realized it wasn't so surprising after all. There was lots of innocent flirting, after all. And we spent a lot of time together. And he was fun to be with, fun to talk to.

So I asked him out.

And even though I knew he liked me, I was still nervous as hell. It wasn't the first time I'd asked someone out, nor was it the first time I'd known they already liked me. But it was the only time I'd ever really been that nervous, that afraid I'd be turned down. It was stupid and ridiculous, but I really couldn't help it.

And the signs kept coming.

He started school before I did, being a year younger, so we'd text message each other while he was in class and I was bored at home. Disgustingly flirty text messages that were fun nevertheless. He always seemed to know when I woke up, because no matter what time I got up, two or three minutes later, my phone would chime, announcing that he had sensed my suddenly awake mind and decided to contact me with some random statement ("We should go on a quest, love!"), a request for a savior, ("Save me from my algebra test?"), or just to say hi ("Good morning, Danny. I heart you"). And it surprised me to discover that I might have the same abilities. During one very lonely day at home, I was reading some of his stories and became overwhelmed with... I don't know the word I'm looking for. Longing, probably. I was overwhelmed with longing for him, so I sent him a very random text message, telling him so. Later that evening, he wrote back to say, "Thank you so much for that, it got me through such a bad day."

It was little things like that. Signs. Like in Fools Rush In. I don't entirely trust the idea of Fate; Divine Intervention is much more my style. Fate means you don't have a choice. Divine Intervention means you do have a choice, but God thinks you should take this route. It's much less controlling.

I like Skittery. A lot. I think it's a little too early to tell if it's love or not, but I can see that happening. I might already be falling. It wouldn't surprise me.

The signs are everywhere, after all.

So random. And yet, I couldn't keep it down anymore.

I'm actually not too happy with it. But I really just had to do something to get it all out of my system before I exploded. Sometimes, music alone just doesn't cut it.

... Anyway. Review, please, if you want to.