I called him today. It was his birthday. I wanted to say something, though I did not have much in the way of news, wanted only to hear his voice. Wanted to know if I would love the sound of his voice or if he would set me off in some way. We haven’t seen each other for five months, I haven’t really missed him but missed something about him. We are separated by an entire country and have no way to be together to find out anything.
When we were last together, it was good. We pulled our old intimacy out of the bag and applied it to ourselves once again. Circumstances have unsettled me and he bides his time not worrying about things not in the here and now. I can’t stand the here and now so think constantly of both the past and possible futures. I am told that neither of these are real and I should spend my time in the present which I try to do but because this present is a colossal bore, painful and fear-filled, I try to escape it--that is the goal for each hour of my day.
I knew I would miss him; I thought it might not be for so long but is five months really that long in the big scheme? I can’t say, it seems so to me but if I could wake up tomorrow in another present, I would be grateful and those five months would be relegated to the past. Only a blip.
So he sounded good. He seemed happy to hear from me. He is always happy to hear from his people on his birthday. It is unfortunate that his birthday falls on the same day as the death of John Lennon, the murder I should say--let’s not soft-soap it. We are both huge fans and so it is unfortunate he has to share his birthday with this shattering event that will never be forgotten or forgiven in our lifetime.
I write stories about him; he has been my muse. I like to remember all the little battles we’ve shared but I also like to remember the things that brought us together as well. We are both of a strong temperament and there’s no getting around the need to dominate. We are a good match in that way although it does not make for an easy time of it. For now we are separated; I say for now but it may be forever. That thought gives me a pain in my lower abdomen, a roiling anxiety that I can’t shake. I try not to think of the future but when the present is the pits, what else can you do? I do dwell in the past an inordinate amount of time and some of it hurts, some of it makes me angry and much of it makes me like myself a little less. I have immobilized my life: I do not put the blame on anyone else.
Some times I blast God for not caring for me, for not taking my part, for not being the loving father I have always been told he is. If he loved me he would lend a hand now and again, wouldn’t he? But then again, I am a pain in the ass, if God has an ass, and I can see his wanting to let me stew in my own bilious juices. I do not take instruction well.
I heard someone on TV once say, God works if you know how to work it. I don’t obviously, even though I have read enough books on the topic. I remain trapped in my own will, my own troubled trajectory. I wish it were otherwise but I have not yet learned my lessons.
So today I called his number, heard his voice. I was thinking maybe I never would again, that I would never call nor would he. I gave in and called and I’m glad I did. He said he was glad too. I hope he meant it. He insisted he did.
For now I will have to spin my tales from memory or from some make-believe strata; he is not with me to give me material. I miss the constant inspiration I have when he is around. I’m lackluster without him, perhaps too barren to consider myself an artist of any sort but I won’t give it up. I’d like to save myself, I’d like to save him, I’d like to save us but he says there’s nothing we can do.
After the call I think to myself, Is there really nothing we can do? Isn’t that just a bit defeatist? Then I get irritated all over again. I’m big on fixing things or at least dreaming of fixing things. I wish he felt the same; as a team we could be formidable. My horoscope today said to be patient, not my strongest suit. I have no choice. But it was good to hear his voice.
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