Playing the Fool

I don't know if I should be thinking of this as the first day of my vacation or no.  Its a Saturday for one thing.  For another thing I'll likely have to go into work some time next week.  But the truth is yesterday was the last day of work.  I had it in mind when I played video games until I was sick last night.  I had it on my mind when I woke up this morning and wanted nothing more than to go back to bed.

But again...that might just be because it's Saturday.

I think the topper is the fact that I'm constantly reminded that its the holidays.  That makes it real.  The music is all over the radio, the ads are all over the TV, and there's the constant sound of firecrackers in the neighborhood that are liable to drive both the dog and I absolutely batshit.  It is unmistakeably, unavoidably Christmas time.  Free time.  And for me...alone time.  Just what I wanted all year round.  Right?

I should have been travelling by now.  I should have either been on a plane or somewhere waiting for a plane.  I should have ben with the woman i love.  instead i'll be...somewhere.  I don't know yet.  I'll think of something though.  I'll go mad if I spend Christmas in a house on my own.  i'll die if I do the same for New Years.  Maybe I can convince someone to go on a road trip with me.  Maybe I can go to Mexico or Guatemala.  After a dozen trips, I'm still not fed up with Chetumal yet.  And I've never been to Flores.

Flores sounds nice.  Merri would want me to go.

With my mind, I'd do better not to speculate about why I'm spending the holidays by myself.  My doubt and insecurity can only do me harm.  But lets consider this:  People say you can't help who you fall in love with.  I disagree.  You can help it.  You can resist.  You can even ignore the fact that such a thing as love even exists.  When we do fall in love, or more accurately, when we do the things that people who are in love do, we do so by choice.  And we do so knowing that we are taking a huge risk.  That we'll get our hearts broken.  That we'll make fools of ourselves.  That the other person isn't as honest, as sweet, as kind and wonderful as you've percieved them as.  But you take that risk because you love them.  And loving them makes you feel as if you're being loved.  Even if it turns out you're only fooling yourself. 

And its worth it.  Its always worth it.  How wonderful it is to play the fool.  How wonderful it is to pretend you're still by my side, and i by yours, and that nothing; not time or space or the influences of other hearts around you can even begin to touch that.  Afterall, there's no such thing as far away.

Get it out

Yesterday was not my best of days.  And although there was only one thing that really went wrong, it feels something like one of my worst days. 

Merri's back in Trinidad, after her many week trip to Europe.  I saw her online and got so excited I was almost overwhelmed.  What should I do first?  Talk to her, of course.  But what should I say?  There were a million things.  Too many to make sense of, especially since I still wasn't sure it was really her or I'd seen someone else and my desirer it to be her was so strong that it painted my perceptions.  My perceptions are notoriously gullible, you see.  And in particular, when it comes to emotions, it doesn't take much to pull the wool over my eyes. 

But it was her.  Certainly.  And if it wasn't, it was a good enough trick to be worth the embarrasment.  Most of all I had to give her the good news: That ne way or another, i would be seeing her this holiday season.  I would see her, she would see me, we'd both be happy people for it.  For weeks now I'd been playing out the scenario in my mind.  I'd be waiting, perhaps at baggage handling, looking nervously through the crowd of Christmas travelers for a familiar face, and she would weave through, unseen except for the brilliance of her smile, her skin, her radiant hair.  My heart would weaken, but my muscles would have to be ready because here she comes, leaping in to my arms.  I hold her to my chest firmly and we kiss brightly, both of us fighting back tears.

Yeah.  that's the kind of shit I think about.  At least, when i comes to her.  there's a constant soundtrack playing in my mind, mostly passionate strings in notes that reach the heavens.  The things I do or sa are much more mundane.  Much less impressive.  Its much harder to be romantic in practice, I think.  So, I open up the conversation with the most romantic thing I could think of at that moment: 'Hello my Darling.'

For long time there's othing.  An intolerably long time.  Long enough for the same mind that had us swirrling in an airport while the camera pulled away from above, to think the worst.  To see her seeing my message, and before she can respond she's playfully yanked back into bed by her other lover.

I don't take pride in thinking this way.  She'd probably scold me even doubting her.  But that's just what I think.

Eventually she does respond though.  She say 'Hey' and it makes my heart sink.  The conversation that follows is equally troubling.  The fact that there was a perfectly reasonable, acceptable excuse for her being aloof and distracted (She was likely tired having just gotten back home.  Likely frustrated with her mom and dad fighting.  Likely disappointed that I hadn't found some way to get in touch sooner, etc.) doesn't make things any better.  It makes them a bit worse, in fact.  We've become mundane.  Just something that exists in the back of the mind.  The ache in our hearts and the back of our minds has become so common place that we've forgotten about it.  Its probably not true, but its a possibility.

Its also a possibility that I'm the only one who feels this way.  Not knowing is the worst thing of all.