Rainy Season -- Day 20 (Seventh day of sun)

Last entry until it starts raining again.  Have so much to say.  So much to write.  Also have splitting headache and bad stomach.  Want to write essay on magic and fantasy in caribbean literature.  Musn't forget so writing down the intention here.  Can hardly think of anything other than my own personal discomfort and...

Her Legs.

Those legs deserve their own line.

Truth or Bukut

So...last night was interesting. Very educational.  Very revealing.  I may have made an ass of myself.  That's nothing new.  I think I admitted something I shouldn't have.  Something that was pretty obvious for the world to see but should have simply gone unsaid.  At least I think so.

I think so.  I don't know so, and I'm still not entirely convinced, that is, that I believe so.  The tension is out in the air now.  It may not have been the ideal method, but its out there.  I've admitted to Her that....  Anyway, its out there.  So why is it so difficult to move forward from that?  Cuz I'm a big fat scaredy cat, that's why.  Its a bit cliche, perhaps,  but I have the feeling that this might change everything.  We won't feel as comfortable talking about the stupid shit that we usually do.  We'll perhaps take one another a little too seriously.  Feelings.  That's what's on the line here.  That's what's bound to get hurt. 

So i tried bringing it up.  Online.  Not my favorite method.  God knows I know better than to try and express myself in live text chat.  Something like this needs to be communicated face to face.  Completely with pauses that aren't simply from 'Got up to get a glass of water'.  Complete with information that can be expressed only in glances, and in faces.  Faces that don't consist of a colon or semi-colon, that is.  And...perhaps culminating in some wordless expression.  Something physical.  Maybe a...

She laughed it off mostly.  Changed the subject.  Then went off-line for a couple hours.  Should I try it again?  Should I push the issue?  Should i ask for face-time instead?

Should I even be pursuing this?

I'd already decided not to.  I'd already decided that whatever this is had met its ending.  But...what if there's a chance?  I'd been doing some thinking and...I have to do a bit more.  I have to give a name to this.  Does my physical attraction outweigh my personal connection to Her?   Do I want to touch her skin and feel her warmth?  Or do I want to be the one that makes her warm?  Am I okay with just doing the latter, like i do now?  If I eat this cake, will I be full?  And for how long?

Mash Up di Vibes

I thought of kissing Her. One second we were looking for kittens and the wind blew her hair into my face. Across my scalp. I felt myself tingle with a sudden realization of her beauty.

The next, we were standing, talking, and I was staring at her lips. Thin, fine lips. I've never kissed thin lips like that. They might be nice, I thought. See the way they form curlicues when She smiles? See the way She presses them together. See the way She occasionally moistens them, as if keeping them ready. Just in case. Our wide, unrestrained smiles might be good together. Pressed together. Held together.

One second I'm taking her home, and she says "I'm not quite ready yet. Lets drive around for a bit. See what we find." And I'm thinking: This is a beginning. I know beginnings. This is one of them. This is a turning point. This is where new things happen. I should know. I am the Fool. I have a close tie to the new. The ever-changing. And I have elation in my head. And I am dancing on the precipice. And I have her lips in my sights.

The next second....She's answering her phone. She is plaintive. She is patient. She is sad. She is uncomfortable. She is saying things like 'I'm on my way home' and 'I don't know' and 'Me too' and 'I'll ask' and 'I said I'll ask.'

Ask what?

"Andre, can you take me to--"

"No." I say. I am not thinking of her lips anymore. "I don't think that's a good idea."  I am thinking of who I know at that address.  No one.  But it must be someone.  "I'll just take you home."

"...Yeah." She says. She sounds disappointed. Her lips aren't as pretty when she frowns.  We are silent.  I am filling in the spaces in her conversation.  Me too.  I'll ask. The next moment she is gathering her things.  Her phone.  She is stepping out of the car.  She waves, disappointed, and as I'm about to say something she puts the phone to her ear and opens her gate.

This is an ending. I know endings. I am the Fool.

Today's the Same as Yesterday, Only Today I Know

So I'm single again. Officially. No, I won't be gorging on Ice cream. No, I didn't cry myself to sleep last night. I'm not a woman. And I won't be heading out to promptly bang every woman I can find. I am a man, but I'm not a stereotype.

I am, at present, eating alone. but I've been doing that for a while now. So how do I feel about it? Oddly...free. Relieved. And of course, guilty that I don't feel worse than this. Sadness has always been something I shrugged off. An emotion that doesn't really require immediate action. if any action at all.

But that was before Merri. Back then we'd both be sad for a bit, and I'd toss my lode into the pile of sadness that I generally ignored, and she'd still be sad. And I'd feel guilty for not being sad. Which would make my great pile of sadness impossible to ignore. There was a lot of crying in those days. Mind you, there was also a lot of undirected anger in the days prior to them. Had I not had that time; had she not happened to me; I'd have probably become like one of those that I now try to avoid. (Violent when drunk, Constantly spoiling for a fight, seeking sex filled relationships with women who don't seem to mind being slapped around every once in a while.)

Yesterday, upon reading her reply, I was sad. Quite sad. I was, however, also angry. Angry that this had to be done by email. That I had to be ignored to the point of outrage before she finally just told me. And what impotent outrage. A letter. A short story. A recounting of waking dreams as I calmly went about my day and pretended nothing was wrong. As if I didn't already know what was wrong.

I guess I'm still a bit sad, and a bit angry. but as I said, this has been happening for a while now. The only difference is I don't have to feel guilty about my imaginary accusations and doubts. And I don't have to feel guilty about fantasizing about other people as the memory of her voice, her face, her touch all fade. (That's a lie. How can I forget that face?) I don't have to worry about who's going to see me when I'm out with friends, smiling and looking happier than i ought to. And I especially don't have to feel guilty for thinking, "She calls me more than Merri does." I don't have to feel bad about liking this fact.

But that's still significant, isn't it? She calls? She calls...often for no reason. Perhaps, with this release, I'll be seeing more clearly now.

A final note: I think at the core of my relative un-sadness is the implaccable thought that...we'll be together again. We've circled one another so expertly in the past that I can't imagine we won't be together again in the future. i'm not counting on it, mind you. Not aiming for it. but I do believe it. Just like i know we were broken up before I was actually told, I know we'll be getting back together. I'm just waiting on confirmation.

You always know.

A gate of ivory, A gate of horn

Once, back when Merri was still here, back when we regularly shared the same bed, I had a dream.

In my dream I was in the most perfect place.  A paradise I could hardly recognize.  And it was the perfect day.  I was leaving a tiny room through a plain wooden door and I stepped outside to greet the rising sun ambling skyward, steaming as it rose from the sea.  I dipped my toes in the sand, considered the hues of color in the sky for a moment, and began walking.  I still don't know where I was going, but I was alone.  And I wanted to find...someone.  Anyone to share this day with.  I was walking to her.

I didn't know who she was or what she looked like, but I did know who she wasn't.  She wasn't Merri.  This was an odd brand of guilt.  One flavored by elation, excitement and disappointment.  Not disappointment for my behavior or actions.  But...for being allowed to behave this way.  That doesn't really explain it.  I don't know if I can explain it.  For that matter I don't know if I should.  It was just a dream.

But after i'd stepped out into the perfect day and went out looking for her, I didn't really get very far since...she was already on her way to find me.

On her way to find me.

You might be thinking 'Okay, this is where things get hot and steamy.  He's gonna talk about breasts and penises now.'  Its not.  Sorry to disappoint.  We just sat, once we'd found one another.  Sat and chatted a bit, but I was still buzzing with the idea that she was looking for me!  The elation I was feeling in my dream-heart just talking to her was just as good as infidelity.

Especially considering the fact that every time I turned to look over my shoulder I would see Merri.  Sitting there.  Looking blankly, though not at me.  Never at me.  I'd call her name but she wouldn't respond.  We'd go on chatting, me and she, and every so often I'd look back at Merri to find...she wasn't all that concerned.  So...I thought...what else could we do?  Right here?  In front of Merri?

When I woke up she was on the far side of the bed and for the first time...first of many...our backs were turned.  I should have paid attention to this.  I should have paid attention to a lot of things.  But sometimes...you're so desperate to hold on to the good things, that you let the bad ones slide. 

Anyway, I was wracked with guilt.  I turned and pulled her to me, kissing her firmly awake.  I didn't tell her about the dream.  It was just a dream.

Just a dream.

***

That was ages ago.  Don't even remember the date.  But today...today I had the most wonderful day.  I haven't seen Merri in a year.  I haven't spoken to her in months.  People ask me about her.  I smile and give them old information.  I think about her constantly.

This morning I showered, and got dressed, in the bathroom of the tiny Hotel room Sean and I are sharing for the weekend.  I stepped through the green wooden door and onto the 'lawn' of the hotel, which is all sea sand.  The sun was already up.  The waves were sparkling under it.  A cool wind blew at me from nearly all directions.

I did go looking for her.  I'm loathe to admit it.  I feel so guilty.  In fact, i felt pretty dumb since she wasn't looking for me.  She wasn't even awake yet.

But she did wake up earlier.  And she had been looking for me.  Or at least she seemed to be.  She tends to talk in her sleep.  It might have been real.  It might have been just a dream.