homestretch
I could have done a lot of things today – written letters or gone for a hike in Forest Park, read the newspaper in a coffeeshop. I could have worked on a Habitat house or opened a bank account in Portland, so I can stop mailing my paychecks to Eugene. But I didn’t do any of these things, or anything else, today. I lay in bed and sometimes pulled the covers over my head. Occasionally I read, just to feel less like I was doing what I was doing.I don’t have a lot of these days – a couple a year. And it’s been a while.
Five hours after the sun went down I left my house for the first time, went to see a movie down the street. One of the characters is walking around in boxers and he has long, knobby legs and in the background Au Champs-Elysees is playing, and I thought of Frenchie, whom I don’t think of often. But there it was, sudden and warm, and I smiled before I knew it. There is the up side, I am reminded. The up side to all of these difficult lovestories I try to embrace that always seem to turn out more Difficult than Lovestory. I know this character. And though I didn’t know him long or well there’s the part of my life that I get to keep no matter what, when I flew to Quebec with one suitcase and no return ticket.
That part is there next to the part where I fell in love with my boss in Brooklyn and we kissed in a canoe, next to the part with the boy who plays accordion. (There’s actually more than one of those.) And lately I’ve been a little wistful for consistency, but it hasn’t been panning out. One day Operaman calls at noon, to catch me on my lunchbreak, to ask about my morning. But the next day he is so far away I’m convinced I've misjudged the whole thing. Is it frustrating for you, watching me think I’ll figure this out?
This is a part of my life I get to keep no matter what. The part where he sings and loans me socks, the part where we share everything we order for dinner. And maybe the next part is some sort of trainwreck, or maybe I’m reading it wrong again. Bravery, I am trying to tell myself. Bravery and breathing for two more weeks till the end of this strange uncertain year.
posted by tortaluga @ 12:38 AM
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