I confess

that there are many moments

I should enjoy

but mostly

I just want to get back to myself

Like when my girlfriend sent me a text message asking…

“Why haven’t you invited me over? It’s been such a long time.”

She left me this voicemail that was full of anger and disappointment

like I was supposed to read her mind

I even invited her for a run

two days before

but she didn’t want to go and said…

“I guess you don’t want to do anything but run.”

“Oh no, that’s not true. You can come over.”

I was locked in

locked in to play the ‘good guy’

I don’t know if I’ve examined my feelings

thoroughly

when it comes to relationships

but they never add up

there is no point in trying

All I know is

when the days are beautiful

I don’t want a woman to come over to my dim apartment

with the sink clogged full of rotting Chinese food

I want to walk under blue skies, budding trees, air so fresh and warm, it feels like I can swim in it

So, I had 60 minutes to clean

and the place was pristine when she knocked

She just stood there

glowing

and I said

“Come on in.”

It was her reconnaissance mission

She wanted to see if I was still worth dating

“I’ve got some steak and asparagus I can cook,” I said.

“Alright.” Her innocent, cherubic face was looking at my library

“You have a lot of old books. Some of them are unusual.”

I knew she was trying to see into my personality

“A Desire to Kill: The Unabomber?” She asked.

It was beautiful outside and I was cooking two steaks, hoping the fire alarms wouldn’t go off.

“These stories are filthy,” she said.

“Oh, that’s Bukowski. A total genius. Wisdom comes from the strangest places.”

“You shouldn’t be reading this stuff,” she said.

I boiled the asparagus. It was getting limp, dissolving, and breaking apart.

Whenever I cook for myself, my food turns out. Maybe it’s because I don’t care.

She kept looking at me with new eyes. She was seeing me differently, already. I was one of those guys she thought she knew and now she was trying to figure me out, again.

“Can I use your restroom?” She asked.

“Sure,” I said.

She walked inside and I could hear her milling about. I had to get some groceries from my car. When I came back in, she looked tense. “You don’t have a hand towel in your bathroom.”

“Oh, I just use this one.” I tossed it to her and her opinion of me sank, again.

“Do you want to watch the movie now?” She asked. It was the Scarlet Pimpernel. Not a bad choice, but the hero acted like a woman to fool his pursuers. It was good for ten minutes and then I got bored.

I touched her leg and her eyes got really big. I was going to kiss her and I did. It tasted sweet and then it was over. We finished the movie.

“Well… that’s the end of that,” I said. “Time for you to go home.”

“Already?” She asked.

“Oh yes, I have lots of work to do,” I lied.

She gave me a bear hug and left. And I felt the most wonderful relief. Freedom. I walked outside, under the leaves and bathed in the sun. I got on my bicycle and rode East, into the cold wilderness of my own reality.

She asked me out on a few dates after that, but in time she dropped me like a rock, and I fell to the bottom of the river with all the other rocks, right where I belong. The sound is different down here. Peaceful. Murky. And a place nobody visits. Sometimes the fish swim by and I stay still, very still, listening to the symphony of sounds, and feeling the shifting sands of time.

3 thoughts on “I confess…

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