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Friday, June 20, 2008

"Back in the Day"


circa when P's hair was long.

Sometimes you have to fly hundreds of miles away to remember why you’re doing it and whom you’re doing it for. Because, well, you’re never quite sure. You seem to feel like you think you are but are you really?

I’ve been playing this game of “how many airline miles can you accrue” with my long-distance but same-time zone boyfriend. The good thing is (as good things should always be mentioned first), we are always taking vacations. So what if his allergies give him the stabbing migraines on planes or if the airport parking fee ends up being 5 hours of my office-work? So what if he lives out of his duffel bag? So what? So, I’ve probably only scratched the surface of the problems that end up stewing in the cavernous underpinnings of my mind (and my heart). I’m a little fucked up over it.

Our phone conversations fluctuate from “hello how are you”s to “hey”s to “gotta go”s. I used to flash him on the web-cam for laughs (am I really admitting this?) and he still calls me to tell me he loves me. We used to do these things in person, back in the day.

I remember when we worked in the same building on Wilshire. I’d wake up on his queen-size an hour before he even started twitching, jealous that his day always began an hour after mine. We never carpooled (see previous note) and hardly took lunches together. But come 6 pm, we’d meet in the lobby, hands eagerly wanting to be held, and then like ride off into the sunset (Sunset Blvd., perhaps). We would cuddle/watch tv/eat/speak our own language all night. Productivity!

It’s easy to reminisce and yearn for everything that’s passed. It’s harder to accept that we must limit our once excessive hand-holding and butterfly kisses to a minimum of two times a month (at least). It’s so hard that sometimes I shout and think unspeakable thoughts and do absolutely nothing to calm myself. And then I drive feverishly to the airport where he is waiting with his duffel bag, and he’s wanting to be held and loved, wanting to believe that it’s worth it.

And as I pop open the trunk, I want it all too.

2 comments:

Andy said...

i wish you the best of luck and continued success (both with the subject matter and your blog itself). hmm, that sounds spammy, eh? specifically, with your long distance relationship and future blog posts. there, better.

V.W.L. said...

despite all the mixed feelings in this post, this is very sweet.