Slow Times at Wally World…

Another slow day at work.  I spent most of my time over in the electronics department again.  They know me by my first name there now I spend so much time in that department.  There is this androgynous man that works there that fascinates me – me being a keen study of people.  I couldn’t tell if he was male or female at first until someone said his name, Derrick, the other day.  He has one of driest senses of humor I have ever encountered and can be so acerbic in his attitude and expressions.  He is keen on talking electronics with me though.  He really knows his stuff having worked in electronics for years and years.  He picked out a cellphone for me today which I am going to purchase when I get paid Wednesday.  I feel I need a cellphone for when people need me to mow their lawns for my second afternoon job.  It will be the first real bonafide cellphone I have ever owned.  It could be a boon for my business and then again, It could be a curse for me personally.  I’m not much one for talking on the phone.   I used to have severe anxieties about phones, but that has eased up over the years some lately.

We have settled into a regular routine at work.  I work from eight until noon.  And Quentin takes over from noon till eight handling the second shift.  I was so worried about my disability with working extra hours last week and am glad we’ve got Quentin now.  He is doing a stellar job my supervisor says.  My supervisor assured me today I would just be working my four morning hours from now on as long as Quentin keeps doing a good job.  I had expressed concerns about it.  I was so relieved.  I am ready to settle into a normal working routine with little deviation.  You know me and routines – I am obsessed with them.

I’ve been talking to this woman named Kim at work during my free time.  We have really been doing some flirting and have developed a rapport with each other.  She has bleached blonde hair and is heavyset – looking a lot like a heavyset Drew Barrymore.  Her face looks stunningly similar to Drew other than the chubby cheeks.  She wears the most rings on her fingers which fascinates me.  I find her very attractive liking heavier women.  She also has several obvious tattoos.  My father would just die if I started to date a woman with tattoos.  A few red flags were raised today when she said she had two kids, but her mother had custody of them.  That worried me for some reason.  What has she done to lose custody of her kids to her mother?  My first suspicion was addictions and jail time which is usually the cause for such things.  I have always had bad taste in women it seems.  Rosa was a train wreck of problems mentally and addiction wise.  Carolyn was emotionally flaky as well.  I am just so lonely for a female companion that I am willing to take just about any woman who shows interest in me.  I do believe this is going to go somewhere though.  We have really hit it off and enjoy each other’s company and conversation.  I am willing to forgive a few foibles for companionship.  I am not exactly a pillar of the community as well having my own problems over the years.

Well, the showers are really starting to bubble up here in the afternoon heat.  I am going to quickly pull my push mower over to the mill village and try to mow those small lawns for $10 dollars each.  I saw quite a few on my ride home from work that need mowing.  I will write again this afternoon when I get home and  let you know if I made some money.  Take care!

Churlish Emotions

It was a beautiful July afternoon at lunch. The humidity was low with the temps hovering in the lower eighties. I was so glad to be at one of my old haunts and hang-outs, Fat Albert's. It felt like old times and Rosa had accompanied me on this almost forgotten routine. She wanted to play the Georgia lottery as she often does.

"You could just give me the money," I said, coyly, of her buying lottery tickets. "It would be the same thing."

"You either have gambling blood or you don't," was Rosa's reply. "And no, you can't have my money. I want the thrill of the chase for all those winnings."

I smiled as I ate my red-hot pickled sausage and watched as Rosa scratched off the little metallic circles revealing money amounts. She didn't win a dime as I had predicted.

I heard some news about my ex-girlfriend, Carolyn, from her friend, the manager, today. She was transferred from a Wal-Mart store to a local Wal-Mart distribution center. She had gotten a promotion and I was pleased for her. Carolyn's friend then told me that she still isn't dating anyone and I was pleased that she was still single. I felt terrible for feeling that way and was beating myself up over it on the drive home. "Why would I take pleasure in someone else's misfortune?" I thought. I told Rosa about it and she said she has done the same thing before as well.

"I occasionally hear about my old boyfriend and pimp," she said. "And I have to keep myself from being pleased that he is still a no-good thief and crack-head. It makes me feel better to feel that way about that son of a bitch."

Breaking up can be a strange thing, indeed. I should just be glad Carolyn was okay and doing well. I did so love her once. Rosa told me not to be so hard on myself as everyone does that. It seems so childish and immature though - like something out of high school. I will just chalk up my churlish response as a blip on the radar of emotion.

Onward, I Ever Walk

This morning was overly cool and I will be glad when summer finally arrives. I walked downtown to watch a few trains pass in the predawn dark. There is just this tangible excitement that builds as you first hear the far off wail of a locomotive horn as a train enters town. Soon, you will see a bright headlight round the corner far down the tracks in the dark as the train approaches. The ground will rumble beneath your feet as the train passes with many container cars marked “China Shipping.” The kid in me always rejoices at this grand spectacle of modern locomotive machinery.

I then stopped by Fat Albert’s this morning for a hot cup of coffee. My ex-girlfriend Carolyn worked there for years and the clerks all know me exceedingly well. I was greeted by hearty hellos and good mornings as I walked in. I stood at the counter to pay for my coffee after carefully fixing it.

“Do you ever hear from Carolyn these days?” The manager, Patty, asked me early this morning. “I haven’t heard from her in ages and was wondering how she was doing.”

“You know we broke up,” I said.

“Yeah, I know,” Patty replied. “I just thought you two might still be talking.”

“We no longer talk, but last I heard she is still working at Wal-Mart.”

“You two were such a good couple. I hate you broke up,” Patty replied.

“Yeah,” I said growing silent as I drank my coffee.

Patty rung me up and I paid and left to walk up the street towards home. I thought of Carolyn as I walked. I still get the occasional call on my answering machine were no one talks, but you can hear someone breathing with a television on in the background. I just know it is Carolyn. It has been very tempting to pick up the phone and say hello. I was never good at saying goodbye. If I were to pick up then I would start that emotional roller coaster going all over again. It is best to let sleeping dogs lie.

A Ring in the Night

I was lying in bed last night. The time was near midnight. I had the ringer to my phone turned off and my answering machine caught the call. All I could hear was someone breathing and a television on in the background and they hung up without saying anything. I have a good idea it was Carolyn. Good thing I didn’t pick up that phone. I couldn’t deal with another guilt trip last night. I still care about her deeply and want her to be okay, but I know it’s best to let sleeping dogs lie. It is best not to say anything in the heat of the moment that I would later regret. I was afraid I might blurt out that four letter word…L-O-V-E.
I am not happy with how I have been writing lately. I am my own worst critic. My descriptions of my life and interactions with people are so plain and matter of fact. I wish I could be a more capable word weaver and incorporate more descriptive writing filled with metaphors and similes.
This morning I once again set out for my daily walk. The sweet smell of the many spring flowers blooming was upon the air and set a splendid ambiance for this nice and warm spring morning. I felt so good today and my spirits were in good cheer despite only four hours of sleep. I have just resigned myself to the fact that my body doesn’t need much sleep these days.

I arrived home and was entirely too lazy to fix a big breakfast and just made some buttered toast in my toaster oven. I sat eating my toast as I read over what I wrote last week. I am not happy with how I have been writing lately. I am my own worst critic. My descriptions of my life and interactions with people are so plain and matter of fact. I wish I could be a more capable word weaver and incorporate more descriptive writing filled with metaphors and similes. I am an entirely lazy writer and most blog entries take only a few short minutes to write and to publish. I really need to start taking more time with my writing and actually write a draft and then revise it. Knowing me though, I will just continue on with the status quo. I guess I better just take the good with the bad. If I make blogging a chore and work then this blog will die and I will no longer write.

I hope you all have a good day today. Of course, I will stop by your blogs to see how my online friends are doing. Take care all of you and thanks so much for being a part of my life with the wonderful comments you send my way. I do appreciate them very much and they make blogging worthwhile. Have a great day my dear friends.

Making Amends...

“We’re cool, right?” I asked Rosa this morning as she smoked one of my cigars.

We had just had a long conversation about our past misdeeds together. The horizontal tango as George had called it.

“We’re cool,” She said as she hugged me. “The options always open if you ever want to have some more fun though.”

She grinned mischievously, but kiddingly.

I smiled as I watched her leave me and walk down by the dollar store. She turned and grinned at me one more time and then disappeared around the corner. Where she was heading, I have no idea. That is Dumpster Diving Dan’s territory.

George then came pulling up into the parking lot.

“Come here,” He said as he pulled up beside me in the fire lane with his window rolled down.

“Take this,” He said holding out a crumpled and sweaty looking twenty dollar bill in his hand. “I had a good day yesterday and made lots of moolah.”

One thing about George is that he always pays me back when he borrows money and I needed it back badly. I am broke until next month.

“Awesome,” I said as I stuffed that twenty dollars into the back pocket of my pants. “You want some breakfast?”

“Nah, I’ve already eaten. Momma fixed a good breakfast this morning,” George replied.

I walked on down and headed straight for the diner to eat breakfast. I was starving. I ordered the standard breakfast platter for $3.99 with scrambled eggs, bacon, buttered grits, and toast. I sat eating my meal as I realized it was going to be another great day, sleep or no.

I was so relieved to set things right with Rosa. She has been a dear friend and I would hate for that to end. She had this aura of excitement and electricity about her this morning. We had a long talk about sobriety and how important it is to the both of us. I don’t think I could take getting cussed out in Spanish one more time. She has such a fiery temper.

Next on the agenda? To get this whole rigmarole with Carolyn settled. She worked third shift last night and will awake again this afternoon sometime. I am going to call her and break it to her gently that things are at an end as far as the two of us is concerned. My vow of celibacy both sexual and relationship wise still stands. I am slowly adding pieces to this puzzle that is my life. I want a clear picture ready to be framed in a few weeks.

Sleepless Nights…

I tossed and turned until my covers were a mess and finally just got on up. That is such a miserable feeling and state of being. At least, I have all day to sleep which will throw my schedule into helter skelter. It shows how I can’t take too much going on in my life.

All was quiet on the home front last night despite my greatest fears. Carolyn never showed up and I never got another call.

“Has she shown up yet?” My father asked when he called to check on me.

“Thankfully no,” I replied. “I didn’t want to have to deal with all that tonight.”

“Well, you go get some rest and I will talk to you in the morning. Don’t forget to take your nightly meds.”

“I’ve already taken them.”

“Good,” He said. “You go to sleep.”

I hung up the phone unaware of the long night ahead of me.

The Dissin’ Man…

“Are you gonna keep dissin’ me?” Rosa asked me angrily as I sat down at the shopping center after eating lunch at Rodger’s today. She had walked up to speak to me.

“The whole thing was a mistake,” I replied once again for the umpteenth time.

“You didn’t think so when you were going down on me and making love to me.”

I cringed at those words and got up to walk away.

“I see how you are going to be,” She hollered after me as I kept walking. "Nombre cobarde! (coward)"

I just wanted to get away. I just couldn’t take all that today. My nerves are kind of shaky after a broken night of sleep. I and Rosa were such good friends before we happened to sleep together and I went and ruined it all. I can be such a dolt when I am drinking.

I then stepped into the dollar store to buy a cheap can of mixed nuts. I’ve been hooked on those things lately and they are only a dollar a can being on sale.

“Sir,” A lady standing at the cash register said as I walked in the door. “We have a new policy. You can’t bring that backpack in here.”

“Will you hold it for me?” I asked.

“Sure,” She said as she smiled, “But I can’t be responsible for anything lost or stolen.”

“On second thought, I will just leave,” I replied thinking of my $350 dollar Canon camera in my backpack. It would just devastate me if something happened to my camera.

I walked on home as a tear erupted from my eye and rolled down my cheek as I thought of Rosa. I really didn’t mean for us sleeping together to happen. I had just had too much to drink and made an inebriated error in judgment. I arrived home to find another call on my answering machine from Carolyn.

Are you avoiding me? I have called three times today and you will not answer. I really need to talk to you. We need to talk about what happened Thursday night. If I don’t get in touch with you today, then I am coming over tonight. Call me.

I sighed. I am being bombarded on all fronts. My life can grow so complicated sometimes and it is my own fault. I am better off just being celibate and alone. It certainly makes life much easier.

I then called my father for advice.

“Don’t answer the door or the phone tonight,” He told me. “You don’t have to deal with that kind of shit.”

“I know,” I said. “But it will probably just get worse.”

“Give me her phone number and I will call her and tell her to leave you alone.”

“No,” I said. “That will make things even more complicated. You don’t know Carolyn. She can have a one track mind.”

“She is way too old for you anyway,” He said. “We need to find you a nice young girl near you own age.”

“I think I am better off alone,” I replied.

“Remember, your sister’s baby is due Monday,” My father said changing the subject. “Have a suitcase packed and ready to go. You are going to ride with us to Birmingham as soon as she goes into labor.”

“Ok,” I said thinking of the mound of laundry sitting in my hall. “I will get some clothes washed and ready today.”

“You just come over and spend the night with your mother and me tonight,” My father then said.

“No, I need to face this,” I replied. “Too many times I have ran from my problems in the past. I have just got to tell Carolyn that it is over and that she has got to stop bothering me.”

“Just don’t drink over this, ok?”

“I won’t. I promise.”

“Well, this all is going to worry the shit out of me. You call me tonight and let me know you are sober.”

“I will,” I replied. "I am going to get to an AA meeting this evening."

We both hung up the phone and I sat down in my lazy boy lounge chair to rest as Maggie jumped up into my lap to take a nap.

At least, I have one woman in my life that is not just driving me absolutely bat shit crazy, I thought.

Just Friends…

“Let’s just be friends,” Carolyn told me tonight on the phone after a lengthy conversation that was going nowhere just a moment ago.

“Ok,” I said nonchalantly.

“What?” She said exasperated hoping I would fight for my girl or either beg her to stay my gal. “You are not going to give me shit?”

“No,” I said. “I think ‘just friends’ is a good idea. It is not like we get to see each other anymore anyway.”

“Okay,” She said sounding sort of confused and bewildered. “I will talk to you later.”

If big momma wanted a ticket to date other men, then she had my blessing and a first class seat on that train ride. I have grown increasingly tired of our on-again, off-again relationship. I just wasn’t getting much out of it.

The phone rang once more just after I had hung up. I picked it up.

“Hello?” I asked.

“You sure you’re not mad at me?” Carolyn asked.

“Why would I be mad at you?”

“People are supposed to fight and stuff when they break up.”

“I am tired of fighting and being mad and shit,” I replied.

“Ok,” She said sounding even more bewildered as we got off the phone once again.

Years ago I would have drank myself into a stupor over this. My divorce left me a homeless drunkard I was so devastated. You know what I did? I ate a leftover piece of pizza, popped open a coke, and sat down to write this immediately feeling better.

It was good while it lasted. I and Carolyn had some wonderful times together, but the spark in our relationship had long since faded and died. I really do wish her the best and hopefully she will find some guy who has much less “issues” as she calls them than me. Che sara, sara. What will be, will be as the Italians say.

Terrible Deeds Done past Midnight…

I finally got to talk to Annabel on the phone. We talked for what seemed like forever. As usual, she was busily preparing for another speech tournament this weekend. I hated to end our call, but had grown as sleepy as to where I could hardly keep my eyes open. A quick nap sufficed.

I did something terrible tonight and am regretting it. I took six of my Librium in a fit of madness. I just wanted to feel out of the ordinary and those little green and white capsules were beckoning from my medicine cabinet. So far, I feel pleasantly numb. I guess I will have to go pick up another white poker chip at alcoholic’s anonymous tomorrow evening signifying the start of a new bout of sobriety. Taking those little pills was very much like drinking a six pack. I dare not let the old timers on to my using pills instead of beer though. They would have me tarred and feathered quite quickly.

“Once a good alcoholic, always a good alcoholic,” I muttered after taking the pills knowing very well what I was doing.

Carolyn is back to working the third shift at her place of employment. She thoroughly hates her job and I can’t quite blame her. Our phone conversations consist of her bitching to me about said job.

“Who were you on the phone with so long tonight?” She asked me when she called well after midnight knowing I would be up.

“My friend in Texas,” I replied.

“Is she female?” Carolyn then asked.

“Yes, but you don’t have to worry about me having a torrid online relationship,” I said enjoying the limelight. “She has far more sense than me so I don’t think she wants to get romantically mixed up with some mentally ill dude in Alabama.”

“What does that say about me?” Carolyn then asked.

Silence reigned supreme as I knew not to answer that question. I should have spoke up and told her my mind. Lately, I could care less if either I or Carolyn stay in this relationship. It is growing far too high maintenance for my tastes.

Moments of Togetherness…

“You seem to be taking your medications these days,” Carolyn says blithely as I sit over my bento box enjoying my teriyaki grilled chicken.

“I don’t have a choice,” I reply. “Remember? I get a shot in my ass every two weeks.”

Carolyn shudders and also smiles.

“I hate shots,” She replies as she eats her freshly prepared sushi.

“My ex-wife loved this restaurant,” I tell her.

“I wish you wouldn’t talk about her,” Carolyn says. “She was nuts. She needed to be medicated.”

I smirk. I don’t like Carolyn belittling my ex-wife though. Rachel had her faults, but she tried so hard when dealt with the most trying of circumstances. She loved me to the bitter end.

“My drinking drove Rachel crazy,” I reply in Rachel’s defense as I take another bite of my chicken.

“I can’t imagine you drunk,” Carolyn says.

“You don’t want to imagine me drunk,” I reply candidly. “I was not a very nice person when drinking.”

“Well, don’t ever start back and we will be fine,” She replies.

We finish our meal. I pay and leave a tip. The traffic out of Atlanta is horrendous. I look over to find Carolyn has fallen fast asleep. It is getting close to midnight. I reach over to grab her hand and she stirs and looks over at me.

“I love you, faults and all,” She says sleepily. “Rachel was a fool to leave you.”

I grasp her hand tightly as I pull off of the Lagrange exit to get some gas. Carolyn has fallen back asleep. Her face is all alit by the bright lights of the convenience store as I pull up to the gas pump.

“It’s good to not be alone,” I say as I stand out in the harsh cold as I swipe my debit card to fill up.

I can still see her sleeping in the car. It is so good to not be alone.

Carolyn Called…

She often calls when I least expect it. I sat today in my lazy boy, reclined, half asleep, as the phone rang. I screen my calls to weed out those most dreaded and most dastardly telemarketers and to assuage my social phobias surrounding the phone.

“Hey, you there? I want to talk to you! Pick up the phone! I know you are there!” Rang out upon my answering machine’s speaker after a few rings. It was Carolyn.

My heart rate increased and my anxiety skyrocketed as I listened to her talk. I reclined forward in my lazy boy and placed my face in my hands as I listened.

“Well, I guess you are not home. I was just thinking of you. I wanted us to head up to Atlanta tomorrow night and eat at that Japanese restaurant you so love. I will call again tonight. It will be my treat.”

I walked over to the answering machine and pushed play to hear her message again. Her voice sounds so comforting; so sanguine that there is hope of us getting together for the weekend. My feeble and so soft heart melts as I dial her number to call her back. I am such a pussy.

“Hey,” I say as she picks up the phone and says hello. “It’s me. I just got your message.”

“I was hoping you would call,” She says. “I’ve thought about you all day.”

“All of this is hard on me,” I reply. “One minute you love me and the next, you shy away from me.”

Silence reigns supreme as she is surprised by my candidness.

“You scare me sometimes,” She finally says. “I don’t know what to expect. I love you though and I miss you.”

“I love you too,” I reply cautiously. “I miss you so very much.”

“Sushi Huku?” She asks speaking of the Japanese restaurant I so dearly love to eat at. “Will you call and make the reservations?”

“Hold on,” I say. “I will call you back in a few minutes.”

I walk over to my parent’s house and call the restaurant and set an 8:00 PM reservation time. I cannot call long distance on my home phone to save money. I walk the short distance home and call Carolyn back.

“Eight tomorrow night is when we will eat,” I say.

“Let’s go in your Honda,” She says. “I love that car.’

“I will pick you up around six,” I reply.

We hang up our respective phones and I have a good cry. This willy-nilly back and forth relationship is so hard on me. I don’t want to be lonely and I love her so much. I know deep in my heart it will never work out, but I can’t pass up on the time spent with her. I just wish I was a normal man, without the rigors of a mental illness to hold me back. She would love me then.

Miki’s Malaise…

Tuesday night is traditionally my shopping night. I and my father went up to Kroger to buy our groceries. Dad had to get a few things to fix some desserts for my sister’s baby shower this weekend. I walked out of Kroger with only spending $54 dollars on groceries for the week. For that, I was proud. Maggie even got a big bag of pig ears which she is currently enjoying one of those poor deceased pig’s auditory appendages.

As I was loading my groceries in my car, Charlie pulled up beside me and rolled down his window.

“Happy Valentine’s Day you little shithead,” He said jokingly.

“I love you too, sweetheart,” I replied facetiously with a big grin plastered upon my face.

Charlie burst out laughing and drove on away. I do dearly love that man. Charlie circles the parking lot until his autistic son, Randall, purchases his nightly can of shaving cream and walks out to be carried home. It is an unfailing nightly routine for Charlie and his son.

I left Kroger and then drove over to Fat Albert’s to buy this week’s allotment of little cigars. Miki was on duty tonight and wasn’t feeling well. She perked up some when she saw me walk in though.

“The usual?” She asked as she forced a smile despite feeling so badly.

“The usual,” I replied as she rang up two cartons of cigars for nineteen dollars and twenty four cents.

“One more hour and you will be off of work,” I told her. “I know you will be glad to get home and get some rest.”

“I think I am coming down with the flu,” She replied. “This next hour will probably be the longest hour of my life.”

The conversation then turned to the subject of Carolyn. Miki and Carolyn are close friends and worked together for years at Fat's.

“Carolyn told me about you two breaking up. I hated to hear that,” She said. “You two were a good couple.”

“Yeah, the past month has been kind of tough,” I replied.

“She still loves you,” Miki said. “She told me the other day on the phone how much she misses you.”

“Well, she has a weird way of showing it,” I replied flabbergasted.

Our conversation was beginning to tread on uncomfortable territory. I didn’t want to rehash my failed relationship with one of Carolyn’s close friends. I politely told Miki that I had to head home to get in the bed early for a doctor’s appointment in the morning. I do have to see my psychiatrist at noon. I dread having to go do that tomorrow. It is such a long drive just for a fifteen minute visit to get my prescriptions renewed. Ya gotta do what ya gotta do though.

A Writer’s Lament of a Love Lost…

I picked up my cordless phone at midnight and pressed the “on” button. My thumb hesitated as I started to dial her number. I almost called, but the insanity passed. An all together different insanity took grip of my feeble, easily swayed, and addiction prone mind.

“Damn,” I muttered as I set the phone down upon my kitchen counter. “I need a drink.”
I can picture her lying in her bed with her cats alone as I write; the phone on her bedside table silent and just waiting for me to call. A stoic reminder of all the late nights we spent talking about mostly nothing, enjoying each other’s company.
There was a lone can of Budweiser in my refrigerator from my drinking days; a single survivor of the many nights I would spend drinking myself into a stupor alone. It was hiding behind the jar of jalapeno flavored dill pickles next to a pitcher of sweet ice brewed tea. I walked to the fridge, opened the door, and stood there for a moment as that cold air poured out and flowed over my sock adorned feet.

“I miss her,” I thought. “I don’t want to be lonely anymore. A drink will make you feel better.”

I cracked open the Budweiser and that strong smell of fermented barley and hops wafted up to my nostrils. It almost made me sick to my stomach. I had forgotten how much I hate the acrid smell of beer. I was hoping that one can of Bud and the rush of its alcohol would give me the courage to call.

There was a moment of hesitation. A tear erupted and rolled down my cheek.

“If you drink this one beer then you will go buy more and you will get drunk,” I told myself. “It’s the first beer that gets you drunk and not the following twenty.”

I know myself all too well.

I turned to the sink and poured the beer out. It was one of the hardest things I have had to do in a long time. The heat of the moment had me firmly in its grasp and all I could think about was escaping to inebriated bliss.

I walked into my den and sat down in front of my computer as I carried the phone with me. I placed it next to my keyboard upon the desk as I began to write…

Will I always be alone? Will I always have to carry this torch that is my burden to bear in solitude? I want to call her so badly, but couldn’t face the rejection if she acted coldly to me. I want her to come over and climb into my bed as I hold her for hours into the night. I want to smell her hair and to run my hands upon the baby soft skin of her back.

I can picture her lying in her bed with her cats alone as I write; the phone on her bedside table silent and just waiting for me to call. A stoic reminder of all the late nights we spent talking about mostly nothing, enjoying each other’s company. I turn back to my computer and continue to write once I pull myself out of my deep thoughts.

I remember those weeks when we first met. Tentative flirting over a store counter grew into long nights of passionate love making. Nights spent holding each other, laughing, and acting silly as if we were teenagers once again.

I stop writing as I think of those nights. I lose my writer’s muse. I am emotionally spent. It is time to go to bed. Another day draws to a close with my only companion a little wire haired terrier that would never forsake me. Goodnight Carolyn. I will always love you and understand why we can’t be together. I will always have the memories we formed together.

“C’est le vie,” I think as I close my word processor without saving what I had written. “It was good while it lasted.”

The Dance of a Thousand Lights…

I awoke early this morning to start the ritual of another day. Carolyn rolled over and drifted back to sleep. I and Maggie walked upstairs so I could let her out for her first visit of the backyard for the day. I stood on the back deck with my mug of steaming coffee in the 24 degree air. Far off, down in the Chattahoochee Valley, a dance of a thousand myriad lights shone in downtown. I watched sleepily and mesmerized as a far off traffic signal swayed in the breeze and turned from green, then to yellow, and finally to red. The chill morning air finally chased me and my faithful companion back inside after only a few moments of admiring that sight.
I stood at my backdoor as I watched her get in her car and drive off. I realized she probably will not call tonight. It was most likely the last time I will ever see her again. At least, we ended on a good note.
Midnight had rolled around yesterday evening with me on the phone. Carolyn had called me. It had been a week since we last spoke. The interval gets longer and longer as we drift apart farther and farther. We once spoke every night like giddy high school kids filled with excitement of a new relationship and prospects of love.

“I thought about you all day,” She told me. “Little things remind me of you and I miss you.”

A few weeks ago such a statement would have hurt me deeply. Time does heal old wounds and I thanked her for the kind words instead of pouting and sulking with her.

“I wish things could have worked out between us, but I understand,” I replied.

There was a quiet moment as I heard her quietly start to sob on the other end.

“Can I come over?” She asked between sniffles.

“Come over here and let’s go to bed,” I replied. “I want to hold you.”

I awoke again abruptly around 4 AM. My arm was around Carolyn and her head was upon my chest. My most striking memory of last night was of her breathing softly as she slept with her soft breasts pressed up against my side. The smell of her hair, which was scented like apples, brought back a thousand memories of us lying together after making love.

Just like my ex-wife, Carolyn is a fair weather friend. She told me last week that she couldn’t deal with the irrationality of my mental illness. The final nail in the proverbial coffin was my week long visit to the mental hospital a few months ago. It scared her and she didn’t know what to do.

I am no stranger to being alone and will survive. I sat at my kitchen table this morning drinking coffee as Carolyn took a shower and got ready for work. I wondered if this would be the last time I ever saw her.

“I’ll call you after work,” She said as she hurriedly walked out my backdoor just as the sun was rising on the horizon. “I am going to be late.”

I stood at my backdoor as I watched her get in her car and drive off. I realized she probably will not call tonight. It was most likely the last time I will ever see her again. At least, we ended on a good note.

Calls in the Night…

It is 1 A.M. I am talking on the phone with Carolyn. Despite her breaking up with me, she still calls me every night. We are like an old married couple whose presence aggravates each other, but we can’t let go and say goodbye. Tonight, she can’t sleep and knew I would be up. I keep such odd hours.

“I can’t sleep and will feel awful at work tomorrow,” She says. “I feel like utter crap.”

“Sorry to hear that,” I say quietly as I listen.

I am bitter, angry, and hurt. These calls do not help. I feel like I am being used.

“What did you do yesterday?” She asks trying to quell the silence and the awkwardness of it.

“I and George rode down to Auburn,” I replied.

“You know I don’t like you hanging out with him,” She says. “He is trouble waiting to happen.”

I yawn and stay quiet. I do not want to go through this same old argument one more time.

“Why are you so quiet?”

“I am tired and sleepy,” I reply.

“I miss you.”

Silence… I am too hurt to answer.

“I need to go to bed,” I say.

“Will you call me tomorrow?” She asks.

“I am confused by all of this,” I reply. “Let’s just lay low for awhile.”

“Okay,” She says sounding dejected as we say goodnight and hang up the phone.

I go lie down on the bed and sob softly as Maggie curls up by my side. It has never been so hard for me to say goodbye to someone. I finally thought I had found someone who could understand me and my illness, but she is like the rest; close minded; petty; judgmental.

“You will always love me, won’t you girl?” I ask Maggie as I pet her.

Maggie sighs softly and moves closer to me. I lay for the longest time in my darkened and quiet bedroom listening to her breathe. It is a comforting and reassuring sound. Life goes on as it always has. Time will heal all wounds. Tomorrow brings a new day and the hurt is lessened.

Internal Battle of the Wills…

I couldn’t sleep this morning. I made my way down to Fat Albert’s in a steady rain. Out of habit, I walked over to the beer cooler and stood there looking at the rows upon rows of beer and malt liquor.

“It’s kind of early to be drinking beer, don’t cha think?” Rang out, startling me, and bringing me out of my beer induced trance.

I turned to look and the manager was standing there with a mop in hand.

“You are Carolyn’s boyfriend, aren’t you?” She then asked.

“We are no longer dating,” I replied.

“Sorry to hear that,” She said. “Carolyn was one of our best workers. We all miss her.”

I left the manager and walked over to fix a coffee and then to the counter to get what I originally came for.

“Two cartons of Smoker’s Choice little cigars lights 100s please,” I said.

The clerk grabbed two cartons and rung me up.

“That will be $21.50,” She replied.

I handed over my money and grabbed the plastic bag of cigars. I made my way out to the car as the rain still steadily poured. My hands were shaking and I placed my forehead upon the steering wheel as I let out a deep sigh.

“One day at a time,” I whispered. “You only have to not drink one day at a time.”

I finally regained my composure and drove the short drive home with thoughts of alcohol and inebriated bliss upon my mind. My internal battle of the wills is still waging as I write this. Does it ever get easier? I do hope so.

Beer Boxes in the Night…

I couldn’t sleep early this morning and hiked two hours for 6 miles before dawn. It was a cold, chilly, and damp start to the day. I once again hiked out to the end of spring road and back. The waning gibbous moon was obscured by thick clouds so it made for a spooky dark hike where I had trouble making out the road in front of me. I was fumbling for ecstasy in the dark.

At one point, there was a very dark form lying upon the middle of the road in front of me. At first, I thought it was either an animal or road kill. I walked upon it with trepidations only to find some drinking fool had thrown out the box to a case of beer. I picked it up and threw it off into the woods to the side of the road. It wouldn’t fit into my backpack to carry it home to the garbage can to throw it away. The cardboard will biodegrade.

I arrived home and took a long, hot shower and fixed a breakfast of cheese eggs, thick sliced bacon, grits, toast, and orange juice. Carolyn was still in the bed and I couldn’t get her up to come to kitchen to eat. She is off of work today and is sleeping in. My early morning rising aggravates her most days. She moaned and rolled over when I asked her if she was hungry. It was around 5 AM. She wishes I would stay in the bed as well.

I and Carolyn had a small argument over George last night.

“I wish you would tell him not to come over,” She told me. “I don’t like him. He is a drunk.”

“George is my friend and he has really cut down his drinking habit these days,” I replied.

“It won’t last for long,” Carolyn replied. “He will be back to his old ways.”

“I can’t help my friends aren’t perfect,” I said defensively.

“You should pick your friends more wisely,” Carolyn replied.

I let it go at that as I turned back to the boxcar I was airbrushing and weathering. Carolyn returned to watching the television. She almost started to reopen the argument, but I let it be plainly known that I had enough of that conversation by not participating any longer. Carolyn finally let it drop.

Bright Moon Rising…

A very bright moon is rising high upon the horizon as I write this, casting cold luminescent shadows upon my backyard outside my windows.

“Uhg, your hospital needs a new interior decorator,” Carolyn said of my sparsely furnished room on the psychiatric ward.

She stood at my barred and grated windows looking out upon the recreation area in the courtyard. Inside my cold and barren room was one iron framed bed bolted to the floor. That was it. I sat on the bed with my face within my hands with my elbows propped up upon my knees.

“Are you feeling better?” Carolyn asked. “You scared me last weekend.”

I let out a sigh thinking of last weekend when Carolyn came over to find me nervously pacing the floor thinking my neighbors were spying upon me.

“Yeah, I feel better, but heavily sedated,” I replied.

Carolyn walked over to sit on the bed beside me and reached for my hand to hold it.

“I can understand if you want to turn tail and run,” I then told her as we looked at each other.

She hugged me strongly.

“Honey, I am not going anywhere,” She replied. “I think of it as you just have cancer and need a chemo treatment from time to time.”

The nurse then knocked upon the door to my room to tell us visitation hours were over.

“I will see you tomorrow night,” Carolyn said as she grabbed her purse and got up to leave.

The nurse was eyeing us warily standing in between our last kiss before saying goodbye. Carolyn turned at the door to look at me one last time meekly with a weak smile. The nurse opened the locked door to let her back out into the general public. I was left standing alone amidst the crazy denizens of this ward with a tear in my eye longing for more time with her. C’est le vie as the French are fond of saying.

A Quiet Morning in Bed...

Carolyn came over this morning and just held me.

“I hate it when you are not feeling well. I feel so helpless and there seems there is nothing I can do,” She told me.

“Just be here for me,” I replied. “I just need a friend.”

We lay in my bed just listening to each other breath for the longest time.

“I get my injection in the morning,” I told her. “I think my medicine has run out. Mom is taking me. I don’t think I can drive right now.”

“Call me when you get home. I will be at work,” She said. “I just want to know you are okay.”

“I will,” I replied.

One of the hardest aspects of mental illness is not what YOU go through, but what it puts those you love through.

That Dreaded Question all Women ask…

And let the relationship rodeo begin! I got the dreaded, “Am I getting fat?” question from Carolyn this morning. We were just lying in the bed talking, and she turns all rhetorical on me.

“Honey, I think you look just fine,” I replied.

“All men say that even when they are not being honest,” She remarked as she got up to get dressed in a huff.

“Then why ask?” I returned as I pulled the covers over my head as some sort of shield from a woman’s scorn. “Seriously, though, you are not fat at all,” was my timid and muffled reply from under the covers.

“It is just that my jeans feel kind of tight these days.”

“Water weight gain,” I replied. “It happens every month.”

“When did you get to be such an authority on that time of the month?”

“I was married for two years, remember?” I retorted.

Carolyn and I both burst out laughing at my last statement.

“You were married to a right monster,” Carolyn said as she playfully jumped back into the bed half dressed with me.

“I know!” I exclaimed. “I am still carrying emotional scars. If Rachel asked me if she was fat, I headed out to the back deck to nervously smoke cigarettes with the dog not far behind me. I knew such a question had far more implications and the shit was about to hit the proverbial emotional fan. You always say no, no matter what, unless you are emotionally retarded or a naïve newlywed or want a divorce.”

“Seriously, though, do you think I have gained a little weight?”

“You look like you have lost a little weight these days,” I replied treading dangerous waters carefully.

“Oh, you little ass kisser,” She said as we burst out laughing again and ended up kissing each other in a warm embrace.

“I love you. You know that?”

“I love you, too,” I replied. “Next time, ask me something simple like how my day was yesterday or how is the weather? Don’t ask me if you are fat.”

We ended up laying there for the longest time in each other’s arms until Carolyn was almost late for work. She finished dressing and rushed out the door to start another day of slave labor at slave wages. I don’t know how she does it. I do so enjoy our little repartees such as this morning though. I hated to see her leave.