July 10, 2004
As I entered Chapter III in my online Bibliomania book, I found my thoughts to drift toward him. Without pause, my eyes sought the time, my wandering mind began to imagine his current location and I carefully calculated the nearest moment in which he might call. In favor of a slight distraction and a good stretch, I got up to make myself a drink and had to admit to the desire to hear our voices mingled together over the vast distance that our Saturday night now occupies.I thought of his voice mail and repeated his parting word, "later" with the same sort of enthusiasm which these two syllabels had given to me earlier. I thought about the severe jet lag he was sure to experience - this made me think of my travels to Vegas and of how no other cure for jet lag could be obtained than by the costly purchase of a Captian and Coke - despite the hour which was closer to breakfast than dinner.
I thought of the sweet words he left behind in his e mail and of how little justice I gave them with my exhausted reply. I thought of the peace of mind they gave to me and of how much less alone I felt at that moment. I thought of the races in Laguna Seca and quickly checked to see the results of this round's Formula Extreme Race (poor Chandler only made 6th).
I thought about last night and how my troubled mind and aching body found no peace as the hours grew longer without relief. I pictured myself sitting upon the couch that was purchased from the owner of LCPS, as I sat alone in the dark with a Miller Lite, a cigarette and tear following the marked trail of the rest. I can hear the words still, as I told myself to stop crying and of the younger residents of the space below, talking rather boisterously (apparently much relieved after having grossly expelled a large quantity of their alcohol upon the driveway for us avoid earlier). Since I could not talk to him to apologize for whatever grief I had obviously caused, I resigned myself to sitting next to his sleeping body and gently kissing the top of his head with trembling lips. Slightly roused, he commented that I had hurt him with my inquiry of our relationship being based on sex and I recall having said very little in response. I assured him that I was sorry and only wanted for him to finally get some decent sleep after such a trying week. And so I resumed my previous location in the living room, filled with thought and the steady sounds of his exhausted snores.
The hour in which I woke did not provide my heart with any revitalizing senses of a new day and rather I found myself on the verge of more helpless tears. Strength beside me, I kept them at bay and only bided my time before we would depart without one word exchanged (besides my vocal shock at seeing a red fox in one of the Milwaukee parks we passed...).
And so here I sit - very repulsed my by own image in the mirror - puffy eyes and disolving features for lack of energy or will; thinking of you and your soothing voice...