The End of the Line

The assembly line that is, or whatever moniker you want to call this profession. For the week at least, because it is Friday. Thank you jesus. I cannot wait to get out of here, but I say that every week, as do all my co-workers. I just hope that time will fly by and before I know it, the hands will read 3 o’clock and I am free.

I have to admit that last night was a little strange. I found myself experiencing iPad withdrawal. I sent it back to the official owners yesterday, after inadvertently holding it hostage since I moved here a year ago. As I have said, I know this will be better for me – I won’t zone out in front of it all afternoon and evening, nor will I spend the entire weekend on it. But it is an adjustment. Per usual, as my partner and I attempted to Skype, all at once my laptop refused to recognize the power cord and failed to hold the charge. Thus, what we had hoped to be a long discussing where we could see one another, turned into just a few minutes as I watched the battery power count down.

I knew I was done with the laptop for the night. I didn’t want to be on zero for a whole weekend. Thankfully this morning, it recognized one of the power cords – it still isn’t charging but it’s also not losing power. So I could work out, I could surf briefly. And I meditated.

But last night was rather interesting. Once I gave up on the laptop, I found myself sitting on my couch looking at the pile of books I have sitting in my apartment and flipped through a few. Almost immediately, I realizing they were not what I thought they would be, and thus did not hold my interest. For the first time in years, I took pen to paper and journaled for a while, which was an enjoyable experience, allowing me to take a break from pounding away at the key board, and letting me get back to the way I used to love to write. By hand. But graduate school took that away from me, with numerous papers to create on a deadline, thus not allowing me the luxury of time to compose the way I had for so many years. I learned to create on the computer – which was also an adjustment – but I have found that we change with technology, whether for good or bad.

And I know in a few days I will love the freedom of not having yet another electronic gadget hanging around. I will find ways to fill up the hours I would waste watching Netflix. I finally found a book I have never finished but is vital to who I want to become and I love their how this writer’s mind worked, thus I began reading that again. I could feel my body relax, rather than just fall asleep to noise from the iPad. The only sound was rain falling softly outside and the fan from the A/C. It was heaven.

I went to bed with the book an hour later. I lay there and  kept reading the David Foster Wallace biography that I have always thought I “never had time for”. It felt good. It was soothing. My partner called, just prior to his going out with his best friend for the night. I never grill him about this, the way he does me when I have plans here. He swore he didn’t want to drink, but as I learned this morning, that quickly faded on the way to the bars, in the company of his mate. But we’ll get back to that in a moment.

After the call, and as my eyes were starting to do the sleepy dance of trying to stay awake and read, or just calling it a night, I turned off the light and lay there, listening to my new white noise machine. This is an item I need to sleep, especially when there are others who make noise above my head. I lay in the dark and thought of my heart, thought of the direction I wanted my life to go in. I breathed and visualized the possibilities and potentials, until I fell into a blissful slumber.

Thank god I still had cigarettes, because as well as I slept, I still did not want to get out of bed when my alarm went off. But I did and went about all the motions of trying to get my head in the right mindset of the day. I am so glad I was able to exercise. I have worked out every day this week, and with my laptop holding the charge, I could still get my hour of endorphin’s in before I had to start getting ready to come here.

And then my partner called. I had just gotten to work. He was still in bed. When I get to work, I am in work mode. But we’ve just been having issues for the past week. Of course he had a couple beers the night before, he said. He rarely drinks, but it does hit him the next day and knowing what the two of them are up to today, makes me wish he was in top form, not with a head full of cotton. He got strangely defensive on me. Saying it was his choice, that he isn’t an alcoholic (which immediately set off alarm bells in my head, as he has called me that before, due to my prior history with alcohol. I have told him not to, in no uncertain terms. It feels belittling to me and forces me into a category I do not like. I do not enjoy being labeled.) In retrospect, I could be feeling simply defensive against him, lingering emotions from our blow up yesterday, and he may not have even meant to intone the word was to describe me. But it still stung like a bitch.

I am hoping we can find a path to clearer and more productive communication. I sent him an email yesterday about how his trying to control, or father me, is making me go mad, and it is something I never do to him. I told him I didn’t want to lose him, but we needed to work on better ways to get our messages across, and for god’s sake, stop interrupting one another all the time. He read it, but it didn’t really sink in the way I had hoped. So I had to close my office door and have a “come to jesus” phone conversation with him, so we could both move on.

Relationships, like life, are not perfect. He and I always start to go slightly nutty after an extended period apart. Perhaps this is what is happening. Perhaps it is something else. But I simply do not know. I hope this is not the end of the line for us. I love him dearly and want his life to be happy. I hope I can be a part of it. But I have a feeling that as long as we are apart, this will be an ongoing narrative in our lives.

I just hope it doesn’t exhaust us both, or make us throw in the towel, before we are together again.

© Sorrow & Kindness

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