Giving Notice - Friday, Sept. 29, 2017
Monday, Nov. 04, 2002 @ 8:26 pm
Don't leave me high, don't leave me dry.
This I remember from Friday night:
I came into my room to change a CD. All my candles were lit, the only light in the room. G was coming out of the bathroom. I had my green drinking blanket around my shoulders. Then it was me and him under the blanket, his smell dizzying even with numbed drunken senses. I remember his neck and his shoulder strong under my heavy head. I remember the surprising bite on my ear.
It was a 30 second moment.
That moment was worth everything. Everything else blurs into subdued greys and laughter.
I went down to Wreck to wander along the shore. I lost myself in the towering reeds, sunlight catching the nodding bending leaves in a thousand chaotic flashes. No silence here, the leaves brushing hushing together so slightly. I climbed up a twisted leaning oak tree. Broad branches were my highchair, and I could see so far. The barges and the booms, tugboats in and out, herons fishing in the flats. Skeins of geese blowing by.
I dropped my keys into the leaves below. They vanished. I'm searching though the leaves and Mr. Hiking Boots frolics out of the underbrush. Suddenly my Eden is.. um.. ok.. so now it is an even more realistic Eden.
Later Karen and I walked the SeaWall. It was our game to play Gay or Straight. There was this couple dressed in business suits. One of the men held a briefcase. The two men looked so out of place among the fleece-clad throngs of stroller-pushing joggers. We created an elaborate story as to how they ended up walking there and then. We strategically passed the men, then walked just ahead to eavesdrop their conversation.
That image is carved deep, the men and their suits, the fleece yuppies, and the ocean scattered with balanced rock sculptures. So Douglas Coupland.
After I left the party on Hallowe'en, she told me, Moses gave her a ride home. He told her that she had a cool sister. That it was cool that we party together. That I seemed like a cool chick. Then why did he not talk to me at the party? I danced with him last summer at a pub night. This is good. He's the type of guy that I would actually want a real relationship, a relationship worth putting quality time into.
We won our hockey game on Sunday. We celebrated by going down to the tattoo parlour. I showed G my new bellybutton ring when I got to work this morning. People harassed me about all my stuffed monkeys. The party was a hit.
I sat at coffee next to G. His leg pressed against mine the whole time, even when I tried to escape. She's coming to visit this long weekend. He's gotta stay away. It's all wrong. He's gotta make some decisions. He is tearing me up.