This is a prosaic companion post to “Unmaking“.
That post was about learning to not love somebody I chose to adore for years, and how surprisingly easy it was, once decided.
This is about recovery actions and acknowledging some of the sadness. Continue reading “A Companion to Unmaking”
Hi, what are you up to? I text Tom on a Monday. Working late, he responds, as he does sometimes.
Another friend who occasionally claims to enjoy my company said he’d be in town Monday evening. Hi, wanna meet for a drink after my assisting gig? I text him. Sorry, no, he replies, I’ll be too far still.
And so I stop by a store, have a snack alone, go home alone, go to bed alone. Except I am not. Continue reading “Monday Evening Company”
When we chatted last week, I hesitated to ask you a favor.
The favor was for you to write to me once or twice. I hesitated, because I wasn’t sure how well that would serve either of us, and because the time for asking favors ran out. If I were to do what I hesitated to ask of you, it would go like this. Continue reading “A Monday Letter”
There may be a day some time in the future when I no longer care about you. The familiar feeling of your embrace would be like a memory of a good book I’ve read, or a movie I’ve seen. Like a memory of my hand in David’s in the Azalea Garden, in June of 2007. So what if I remember the month and year, I am good with calendars, that’s all. It might have been May, too. When do the azaleas bloom? It was a Tuesday.
About you, I’ll remember there were Mondays. Continue reading “Mondays”
Love letters understated 