Litnet

On my facebook there was a friend request from an animated goddess,
Her name sounded black to me but later I saw that she wasn’t.
What she was: an Italian-American in love with a movie villain.
An artist aroused by a chance picture of mine.
Why did I suppress the urge to decline?
My world would’ve been altered unknowably.
I know that because of the fatal accident on the day my father found out about my existence, whether by misfortune or disease: death, like the universe, is indifferent.
Sometimes I wonder about the truck driver and other motorcyclist involved, but I decided to accept her request and we entered into friendship.
Many months later we embraced outside Arrivals and we flew back and forth between skeptical families, cultural barriers, continents and 1st and 3rd worlds until we got married and now we’re still young and poor in post-recession America and I don’t have to IM her anymore when we’re both online because we’re in the same room; she’s looking for work and I’m writing my far-off friends.
The ones I left behind, those I have left, and there is a great distance between me and my brother, not so with my mother, father is dead.
I’m a momma’s boy and the villain committed suicide.
Status changed, wife gained, friends and family left afar.
The world is getting smaller and tales of why I’m not visiting are becoming old.
Where is the heart when you’re not sure where home is?