Today's writing

Twitchy, cautious pause. I often accused Adam of sticking to small talk, of having little of substance to say. It’s no surprise he bristled at this bullshit. Who the hell wants to be told they’re shallow, that they have nothing to contribute? And yet there were those days when I looked off into the distance and wondered – was there more? Somewhere? Was it mine to have? Even to dream of?

 

What was I not experiencing? What did I want that I had yet to find? I was in an ostensibly happy marriage with a loyal man who would fling himself from the highest rooftop upon my request. A beautiful, loving child. Two batshit dogs. More friends than I could text in a single day. What the fuck did I want?

 

“But,” I said, “I like you for the fact that you don’t go over that shit. You know?”

 

Fact was, it was true, to a degree at least. People who spent too much time in their heads were worrisome. What were they turning over in their minds? What was the calculus behind their eyes? Most of all, what were they thinking about me?

 

I used to knock Adam for looking at other women. That was in my jealous days, the envy times. What did he think when he saw them? What did he wonder about? These days I pretty much didn’t give a fuck. Let him look. Like I didn’t?

 

“Yeah,” he said. “I know.”

 

After we hung up, I tried to figure out what the hell to do in King City. I’d been here on a handful of occasions, mostly involving the procurement of fuel on the way to and from Southern California. It felt like one of those towns whose hard edges were also boring, which made them so much worse. Petty – and sometimes not-so-petty – crime. Pregnant teenagers. More than anything, the lack of motivation – if not desire – to exist elsewhere.

 

Suddenly I felt lonely, so fucking lonely.