[i]
Waking up just before 1:30 p.m.
Cinnamon Raisin Bagel with Cream Cheese. Orange Juice.
Shopping for new eyeglasses online.
Mango.
Skype chatting with Aysena. It’s nice to see her. It’s been at least two weeks since the last time we had a complete online meeting. At first we just catch up and the conversation is light and warm. But in the end we’re facing critical conclusions and seem to bring the romantic relationship that we kept alive for a long time to a close. It’s very strange. I feel sad about it and feel like shit. As usual we keep getting disconnected because her internet and my internet sucks. We’re forced into sending Facebook messages back and forth...
Ays: “Even the internet doesn’t want us to talk anymore. so it's not gonna work for us. it is really really sad. just like really sad. I dunno how you came to thoughts that you and me aren't right match , but it's really really sad. I will dream of you till ... oo [forever]”
Me: “it just feels like the right thing for me to do is let go and let it be...for now. i don't know. im really sad about it too. the story doesn't have to be over. i think if our story is strong enough that it will continue again later in the future. i truly believe that. i think it's important at this time in your life (you've graduated, you want to see Paris and Spain, or just travel to other places) you should be free to go and do that. i'm not going anywhere. ill still be here for you always...”
Ays: “yes. I'm just too silly. you ll find someone better, I know. you deserve a happiness that close to you. I will miss you so much so much so much. never forget that I'm the one girl you know that really believe in true love that lasts forever.”
...
[Sigh]
Egg Sandwich with Hummus and Tomato. Goldfish Crackers. Honey Green Tea.
Errands. Stopping by Kroger I run into my old boss from The Flower Gallery, where I used to work way back in the day. She’s this lively woman in her 40’s, very beautiful for her age. She introduces me to a man shopping with her. There’s thoughts of starting up another flower shop again and she takes down my number.
Her: “How have you been? I know you did a lot of traveling. I always talk about you.”
...
Then, at Trader Joe’s.
On the Lynnhaven Middle School courts shooting some hoops.
Back at the house. Ana comes over at 10:06 p.m. I cook us dinner: Barbecue Garlic Salmon with Peppers, Onions, Mushrooms, Green Beans, and Couscous. Sipping on this Sparkling Rose Wine I picked up at Trader Joe’s. I encourage a sit down at the piano together in attempt to play a blues progression. She already has a talent at reading music notation as she grew up playing the piano. I recently saw a video she posted on Facebook of her and her mom playing and singing an old church song. It reminds me of my mom and I cause we used to do that stuff all the time when we lived together. So Ana continues playing and singing from a Mormon songbook she brought over called A Song of the Heart. She has such a sweet and pitch-trained voice.
I wash the dishes while she draws an androgynous mini Lego version of her face on the cork from the wine bottle.
I announce, “I love doing dishes. And I’m not being sarcastic.”
Ana: “And I like chopping vegetables. The simple things in life ya know?”
[Shared laughter]
Upstairs in my bedroom we share Ice Cream Bon Bons and watch a time-lapse video of the dandelion. There’s a general silliness and happiness that fuels our connectedness. In the bed she rustles under the covers nonstop. There’s cuddling and snuggling. And eventually it leads to sexiness. Now I had actually prepared myself to personally restrict any kind of sexual things to happen. I just wanted to keep things at an even pace and maybe take things a little slower. As well I wanted to respect the recent endings between Ays and I. But sometimes the desire is too strong, the fire too hot, or the fantasy too tempting to avoid. I’m drawn into this direction. Why should I stop it? It doesn’t feel wrong. It feels right. It’s exciting.
...
After all the sexy commotion we settle down body to body and fall asleep satisfied.
[i] All images by me.
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