Waking up at 11 a.m.
Breakfast: Cinnamon Toast Crunch.
All day shift at China Wok.
Slow and steady—hurricane on my mind—family on my mind—loved ones on my mind.
Phone conversation with mother—she’s going through a sense of separation like I am but in a different aspect…similar process.
Banana.
Lunch: Egg Sandwich with Mayonnaise and Tomato. Salt n Vinegar Chips. Pomegranate Cherry Ade.
Napping with my head on the table…
It’s unusually slow for business tonight…reading Adbuster’s…
Ice Cream Cone.
Big tippers in the north end.
Taping down the windows outside the restaurant with my bosses. Cecily laughs at the idea cause we’re using cardboard boxes rather than the thick ply board like all the other storefronts. Of course that costs money. And we’re Chinese. We don’t spend money unless we have to. We’re thrifty and frugal.
Ling: “See! It’s good.”
He bangs his arm against the cardboard wall we created proving that it’s impenetrable.
Dinner: Vegetable Lo Mein. Kirin Ichiban.
I told her she could come over and we could talk again…but it’s the same conversation with the same pleas and explanations…
She’s In Shambles.
“I’m just so sad!”
I Feel So Responsible. I Am.
“I hate everything without you!”
She’s In Pain. Utter Bloody Pain.
“I feel like a Siamese twin but my twin’s been cut off…”
She says she loves me and that should be enough.
Catching the tears falling down the center of her chest and into a dark space between her breasts…I’m quiet. Only speaking when necessary but most anything that comes out of my mouth just revs up the salty water machine…I choose my words wisely, but not my touch, at least not as much.
………
Subtle touch. A fiery vibration introducing her familiar touch—her beautiful image—her role as a lover………what we once were………what we won’t be anymore…it’s a shame that an intense lovemaking such as this will have to cease. I have my doubts. But I have already chosen my path…my path to new things…my path to separation. Is this the key to success? We shouldn’t have done that. I didn’t even mutter a word when she fondled me, just closed lips and short breaths. I couldn’t say anything. I was entranced. Do you even know how long it’s been? Too long…
Me: “Should we be doing this?”
Her: “Probably not.”
But the movement continued—it pressed on…it was not in vain…the fantastical escape was thoroughly impressed into the present moment. Ecstasy. A pure exchange of pleasure like never before. My legs go numb…Afterwards…Her goal to remind me what I’m losing. “Why would you want to lose this?” she asks. “Why won’t you let me be with you?” My reply: “It’s not that simple.
We both knew that shouldn’t have happened. She leaves into the trickily rain and whooshing baby hurricane wind. I’m disappointed in myself. It’s not a relapse. But it doesn’t help even as much as I’d like to think it was necessary, like a last and final session…like maybe we both needed to feel intimacy with each other one last time.
This isn’t going to be simple. I think I said this once before. But I know it is the right thing for me. She may not see this now, but for her too. This is the only way…the only route for me…I can’t turn back, darling…I can’t change my mind…I have to move forward…Don’t worry…I won’t forget.
Sleep 4:30 a.m.
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