January 2017

 

Today's writing

This always gets me about Rob: he can’t make a split-second decision about anything. We’re literally getting menaced by a wildfire and he still can’t get his act together to decide to take off. There have been times I’ve wondered if his inability to make a choice affected Jax, and if so, how things might have been different had I intervened. In fact, would things have been different if I’d had my child with another man? Another man might not have passed down his depressive tendencies, his touch of autism. Another man might have been able to handle his son in ways that Rob couldn’t manage Jax.

 

I don’t know. I don’t know anything, it seems.

 

“So what exactly are we going to do? Sit by the wood stove and wait to turn into ash?”

 

“I’m just saying we don’t lose our shit just because there’s a fire in the same area code that we are. You know?”

 

“I do know. I know that you can’t get off your ass –”

 

Even Sid looks at us like we’re fucking nuts.

 

“Look.” Rob’s eyebrows knit together, come apart, do the dance. “Your mouth is starting something that your brain may not be able to finish. Just consider that. Keep that in mind. If you want to brawl, let me know. But think about it before you do.”

 

It’s moments like this when I can totally see a life without him. A life in which I could hang the toilet paper any which way. Eat in bed without getting side-eye. And yes, escape a fucking fire that’s headed my way. But instead I have to do the compromise thing. Shit, I hate compromise. Don’t you?

Today's writing

My veggie breakfast sandwich and his griddle combo arrive. I look at his bacon with envy. Lately I’ve decided to go more in the direction of vegetarianism. I say go more in the direction because I fuck up all the time, especially when it comes to crispy morning meats. The more words someone uses, the more they’re trying to avoid the point. Language so often takes us away from meaning, veil our eyes from what we need to know. Maybe we should speak less and feel more, take our mouths out of the action, replace them with our hearts.

Back in the day ...

 

Santa Barbara, 2015

 

Today's writing

Let’s do something. Wasn’t that the reason we came here, to flee the drive to act? That tart old trope: Wherever you go, there you are. No escape. But we try. Oh, do we try.

I might be tempted to say that this describes me more than Rob, but that’s not the case at all. We sometimes hide in different places – him internally and me speaking far more than anybody should – but in similar ways. They’re not unique. We hide in our phones, our stupid conversations about nothing at all. By petting the dog, doing breathing exercises. We hide by living, through the stuff of the everyday. And in that sense, we’re getting ready to die.

Science on a rainy day