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solstice: Meandering Ophelia | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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›comments[0] ›all comments ›post #953 ›bio: kristen ›perma-link ›8/4/2026 ›10:12 ›archives ›first post ›that week
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his ex mother in law had been an ice-skating teacher. her ex mothers in law had been housewives, substitute teachers, bank stafff his parents were cool New York artists. her parents were - well, there were lots of them but teacher, preacher, handymen his grandfather had been into unions or had he busted them? anyway, he had a special glove that either had to get repaired or finally shelved recently. his mother had died a year and some days ago. she had died long ago for him though. so it felt like it didn't matter - although it had to have, "they made me take a week off work, so I cleaned my fridge. I felt like I had to do something." they laughed. they always were so simpatico then. he was in. she was only just starting to tighten up and was always testing - always - but he was passing passing passing. yay. she remembers sitting on the sofa next to him - when he used to sit next to her - and him discussing a work text string "shit! I accidentally heart emoji-ed. I meant to just like it. oh well, can't change it." He used to dream about doing shit with her. "hey you should - I'll take you - go to the lynching museum in Alabama. I swear, it is epic. everyone should go. I'll go again." She had pointed out a Mexican restaurant in Athens that was still there from when she was in school, "oh my god. I can't believe La Fiesta is still there. that's where all my credit card debt began - margaritas and tacos!" His response was, "we'll have to go there next time." but she had asked him if he liked her - she had scared him - in beloved holy wilmington, and they hadn't repaired it - they had just kept moving on. it was an error. another one was when oh she had them lined up by a string - she trotted them out every day. today's wound was just remembering when he stroked her cashmere sweater when he was tipsy - with her body in it of course - and how he lusted her and wanted her. it had been so much easier then. before the bizarre cuddling on his back with him acting like nothing was there. with her reaching around to his chest and him either ignoring it or slightly moving . she obviously still loved him. she wishes she had been a famous neurosurgeon or a pastry chef or something that he would have found interesting - or that she had finally been able to relax and stop auditioning - stopped waiting and just said "in or out" she acts like that is everything, "if only I'd said something - we'd still be together." a more painful truth we all know. it didn't matter what she said or didn't say. she wondered if she should make the bed or wash the sheets. she wonders if she should go for a walk now. it's already too late for the grass. she still hasn't showered since the Athens bath though - cutting the grass would def sweat her into a shower. she remembers driving down to Florida with him - last august - after he came back from the shoot and calling her all the time and just ahhhh - and seeing on his console "Wednesday prayer Circle" and going "whoa shit - had no idea. this is odd." and him saying laughing that it was a joke - that's what their work group called the Wednesday meeting - and they text from it. it was his idea to name it that. she loved him. it didn't matter anymore. she didn't care. this was her tapping. not yours. the sky was a gorgeous blue. the grass was fucking verdant. there were wispy watercolor white clouds. she kept forgetting what she wanted to say - what was important, but maybe she'd think of it later and write it somewhere else. she had cried today - thinking again how fucked up it is that she'll die without ever hearing him say, "and at crafty, we had the most crazy mushroom meatloaf. I ate it." or see that he went to a museum while he was walking around. or see him ever. it made her understand - even if you don't - why she won't wash her hair. (hint: she loses another connection to him - think baptism - think shared water - think depression) --- she wonders if he ever planted or threw the wildflower seeds. this time last year, it had been Detroit and nightly calls and updates and so much beautiful contact - coming here before flying out then coming right back here after flying in - and then Florida...it's going to be a month to meander through. with lots of mead. who gives a fuck. whatever. she wonders why she didn't ask him more about the debauched time after his marriage - he alluded to it being shallow women, loads of cigarettes, late nights, anger, silencing his phone forever, booze. maybe that was all she needed to know. and she got it wrong. it was "la Dolce Vita" he hadn't yet seen. She hopes he catches it on criterion before it expires in December. thinking of the mountain goats and Athens made her sad too. something about being in Athens was trippy. the last time she had been in his house, she was sheepish and shy. she had kept waiting for the calm security of being his chosen one - yet, it never came, so she was always apologetic about existing - the usual bullshit defense. egads. so they had come back from the mental fuck that - no matter how secure and enlightened and therapied she gets, they always fuck her up - or rather she lets them - whatever, so she's all in that mess. stopping to pee and say goodbye at his place. unlike in November, he's not asking her to stay for chili (she'll spend nine fucking months wondering why why why but that's the other stories) she loads her bag in her trunk and then comes back with his Christmas gifts - in a big Aldi's bag. he doesn't even care to look at it - nor had he unwrapped it when she texted him later. she takes that as more evidence in the courtroom she's convened at the trial of He Doesn't Like you (winner) vs. He Does Like You. later, he'll mention he has an Aldi's bag in his backseat - as he's leaving her house for the last time. He'll be in wonderment, "wow, oh look. I have an Aldi's bag." "I know, I gave it to you. It was your Christmas wrapping." "oh" he had given her a perfect gift wrapped in perfect wrapping (he was great at wrapping - hmmm). He texted her almost immediately to make sure she had gotten it. earlier, he had also said, "oh, we're doing gifts." oh well. it had been a bit of confusing. she missed every fucking drop of possibility. now, it was back to reading and walking and fake smiles even alone. the travis McGee book had been nice. she enjoyed being with them, but she knew the ending too well after the first chapter. the empty copper sea. and she had loved your sunscreen and that you applied it religiously, "well, I was burned/neglected as a child". it smelled great. he was generous with it as well. "we should golf. I've got some clubs." "we should camp. You know I have all that stuff. I have sons." She immediately pictured all of it - and loved it - and thought she had so much time. who could deny. they were a match. she loved that he let her drive his car and wished she had not startled into breaking. she had been so nervous and consoled herself with "what if this was a new car I won on the price is right - I could drive it." and today was Tuesday. it was tacos and trivia for him. it was a cool verdant day, so he'd probably squeeze a walk in and plan the next shoot and listen to hilarious and witty podcasts with tipsy ladies. and none of the plexiglass got any different just cloudier. the hardest part - of course - had been that if he had been at all falling in love with her at all going "hey you!" he wasn't anymore and had back-pedaled hard. the school bus with the blue bird on the side - the one she had tried to subliminally draw on her white plaster wall in wilmington - passed. it dropped the little boy off. last year, the dog had waited and walked him. she hadn't seen the dog in months. and didn't dare ask.
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