[i]
Waking up at 11:10 a.m.
Orange Juice. White Apricot.
All day shift at China Wok.
Getting a sunlit look at my new ride. She’s the same wagon I
had before but with a fresh color. It’s a little flashier than I prefer but
then again maybe not.
[ii]
The counter-cultural propaganda is picking up around here. I
would say this is a positive thing for Virginia Beach consumers.
It’s a fairly busy lunchtime. Too many orders at once.
Scrambled Egg with Tomato. Five Guys French Fries with
Ketchup. Honey Green Tea.
Snippets of a text conversation with Kristin...
Her: “I feel exhausted. I feel drained. I feel anything but
uplifted by you which I know is not your intention. My heart is reserved to be
given fully not partially.”
Me: “do you understand that I love your heart and admire
it??? I’m just not ready for such a fierce of a thing just yet. but I want a
heart like yours eventually.”
Her: “I feel rejected. You are not as mature in your heart
as me. That is a shame.”
Maybe my intentions were misunderstood? But I had
none when we first met. I was open-minded to whatever course it would
take...whether into something deep and soulful or something mere friendly and
light. But now we’ve arrived at the end of the tunnel. We have no more time
left to waste. Do we part? Or do we start?
Then...into dinnertime.
There’s been at least three different instances where I’ve
been yelled at to “Slow down!” Even a standing cop at the oceanfront decides to
inform me “you just ran a red light!” as I steadily drive through the stoplight
when it turns from yellow to red. It has to be the cosmic force of the
collective organism called traffic enforcing the laws to protect its blood
cells.
It’s late. It’s past 10 p.m. Now it’s almost 11. Good
lord. Get me out of here!
Finally back home. The whole gang is gathered in the dining
room chitchatting and engaging in nonsensical humor. Of the group, Kristin is
here too.
...
Tofu with Broccoli, Snow Peas, Onions, and Rice in Garlic
Sauce. Mickey’s.
...
At some point Kristin shows me these sexually derived texts
a guy sent her throughout the day. I know she’s not necessarily showing me to
make me jealous but according to her she was showing me because she was kind of
uncomfortable about them. I make light of it and profess out loud, “I know what
you’re doing! I’m not playing this jealousy game!”
Darren chimes in, “Do you see his shirt right now? It never
turns green.”
I happen to be wearing a plain mustard yellow t-shirt.
Me: “Yeah! That’s right babe! This is yellow. It’s always
bright and sunny!”
The sarcastic hostility is too much for all of us. Bursts of
laughter and hoot and holler fill the air.
Midnight strikes. It’s Kevin’s birthday. There’s yelling and
singing.
Everyone wants to go to Rick’s Café. Kristin and I retreat
upstairs to my room and have a personal meeting that turns into me offering
physical pleasure. But I’m not horny for some reason. There’s a disappointment
on her end. But I don’t know how to explain myself. She’s dying for sexual
healing and I can’t satisfy. I feel bad. What is wrong with me?
...
We start talking about the deeper side of things and work
through an understanding...
Me: “You have a deep well inside you. And I stand there
looking over down inside deciding whether or not I should dip my bucket into
it.”
...
She’s animated in her expression.
Her: “I have deep feelings for you.”
...
Me: “I like you. I do. I’m just not ready.”
...
More and more clarification is needed. More and more
explanation.
...
Everything hits her in a fit of anger and rebellion.
Her: “I’m sick. This whole thing makes me sick.”
...
She storms out the door leaving in protest of everything. I
take a deep breath and think for a minute. What is going on? Why is this
happening? Do I really make people crazy? I notice her phone is still
sitting on the desk. I grab it and follow the distance out front where I find
her standing with big black baby eyes and a black streak on her cheek where
tears have fallen. I prop myself on the cinder block and observe the thunder and
lightening flash in an appropriate picturesque scene behind her glowing forlorn
face. Spooky. The only way she likes it. She lives for this. I’ll admit there
is a beauty in it. But it’s not necessarily a becoming moment either. I make
mention how odd and fitting it is that most every time we’ve hung out a storm
has loomed in the air. There’s something coincidental and enchanting about it.
...
A rainfall begins. I grab an umbrella and open it up. I
approach and wrap my arm around her wanting body. Her head gratefully rests on
my chest. I protect us from the dreadful weather around us.
Me: “Remember that scene in Moonrise Kingdom when
they were standing at the top of the church and they almost jumped and there
was lightning?”
I feel her head nod in agreement.
Me: “That’s what this feels like.”
...
After we’re done experiencing our little movie-like moment
we head inside. Social antics and celebration still going on in the dining
room. I venture into my bedroom and reflect. Kristin doesn’t follow. After a
while I decide to go look for her. She’s upset and ready to leave after
standing alone in the kitchen for whatever reason. We walk to her car and
continue to debate. Everything that we’re talking about is unsettling and
uncomfortable. In regards to how our ideal relationships form there’s a
conflict. I move very slow...very carefully. She moves fast and without
inhibition.
Me: “We come from different histories, Kristin. We come from
different jungles.”
...
Her: “Why do we keep fighting?”
Me: “For establishment. We’re fighting for establishment.”
...
After all is said and done she would rather be here with me
than go back to Norfolk and feel depressed. So we settle down in my room –
getting ready for bed. It’s much nicer and brighter now – cracking jokes and
laughing about silly things.
I read out loud to her the stormy moment I wrote about
earlier. She starts laughing hysterically...
Me: “How are you laughing at yourself? It’s not a laughing
matter!”
...
Bedtime. 4 a.m.
[i] Leonid
Meteor Shower.
[ii] All other
images by me.
