Feeding the White Dog

So. Yesterday. Not so good. Then the night came...

She picked me up at 7:15 from work and she had a new ultimatum in her palm top. I sat in the passenger's seat and read two pages of acusations and invective. Then we sat in silence.

We got home and went to our room and I made her sit on the bed. And I began to preach. I have never... in the 3 years we have been together, raised my voice. I did last night. I explained and outlined where all her fears and paranoia was wrong. Showed evidence to destroy her false accusations.

Then I told her everything. Every hidden element of 36 years of my life. I told her about the 36 year old woman who took my virginity when I was 14. I told her who she was and what she was to me. I told her about all the dark things that happened in my life... and I told her why I tell everyone I know that I love them... and explained what 'I love you' means to me.

I told her about burying my grandfather when I was 6 and my grandmother 10 years later. I told her about burying Bart and Jason and Leslie and BJ. I told her about burying Matt after the Gulf and I told her about burying Bobby in texas... and I told her my REAL terror... the one that I refuse to admit... That if you love something... it will die...

She cried. I cried. And she told me things about her life that I never knew. We talked about our past, our sex life and ... thankfully, our future.

Once upon a time I promised her forever, forever is a big fat lie. Promise today, because that's all you have.

Today there is a weight off of both of our chests. Today the sun is a little brighter. Today, we are good. Today, my other friend Bobby is beating Lymphoma. Today is a good day. All we have is today.

There is a Native American story that says: There are two dogs that live inside of me - a red dog and a white dog. The white dog wants me to live for that which is good; the red dog wants me to live for that which is evil. They fight each other all the time. But I know what to do - I feed the white dog and I starve the red dog.

Feed the White Dog
Hoka Hey

The Yeager Road Diaries - Remembering the Redhead

Morning never comes as a shock on saturdays, unless I think that it is monday. Today I woke up knowing what day it was. That is more than many can say. The subliminal whirl of a fan accented the waking. Wash. Shower. Shampoo. Rinse. Repeat. Brush. Brush. Comb. Smile. Take Vitamin. Smoke. Breathe. Wake.

I went to the OK cafe where everything is OK 24 hours a day. I thought of a woman I loved... love still (though the romance I dreamed of has long since left). She is a long way from me now. And in recent years I never took advantage of the closeness, only bitterly blamed time and space and emotional distances that I, myself, created. So I ate the sweet-potato chips and maytag bleu cheese burger and I drank the chocolate malt with extra malt. And I remembered when we were inseperable. And I remembered the christmas I wanted to tell her... and I remembered the lead singer of the cure and I remembered smiling while my heart broke. And then I smiled at the thought of two cats (that were fixed) trying to mate. I remembered laughing and talking and thought about how she can make me so mad and how she could make me smile. And how, in her way, and in my way, we love each other still...

I bought DvDs and a NIC while disco that should have stayed dead moved the middle aged white men to dance in place. I bought new shoes at 80% off as a store owner's dream disintigrated and unruly children tussled and unruly adults vied for the scraps of a businessman's dream. I drove past all the old places. Places I lived, places I worked, places I dreamed and places I died inside while no one knew who I was or why I was there. I watched the hookers on Ponce and the students on North and noted the very near ages of the groups and became melancholy.

The DvD is spinning up and my mountain Dew is warm and I would die to be alone for five minutes just to remember who I am... but that will have to wait for tomorrow and I know it...