…longtime island time…

The days fall into place as she settled in to the new space.
The dog was a wonderful excuse to walk long distances,
down a rough red clay road, tropical trees lining each
side.  The walks got longer each day, and she sped up the
pace to where they were going first one mile, then two…

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Although the dog was older, he adapted quickly, and the
two of them worked towards strength and stamina.
In the afternoons she rested, the midday heat slowly
lightening with the trades blowing in.
Writing, reading, dozing.  Very island time.

He was back on track now, after the stressful times, and
was making plans for his future, their future.
He tells her he wants to gain his Captain’s License, and
classes, though expensive, begin soon.
He’s getting excited about another future, one that
He makes for himself.
Lazarus Rising….

He’s on a roll this time, seeing the door opening, seeing a
Path with Dignity, an escape with his head held high.

He talks of the North, of the oil fields, the Tundra where
trees can’t grow, the perma frost, the Caribou.

He tells her about Bowhead whales that follow the ice,
and take 20 minute dives, and how Balooga whales
can turn their heads.
Of the Inupiat, who look to the ocean for the majority
of their food, the whole of their life.
He speaks of 12 foot thick ice, often for many square
miles, and what shorefast ice and sea ice are,
and how they’re different.

He tells her that Lemmings stay active all year round,
one of the only mammals to do so…
He is so fond of extremes, of challenges, of adventure,
and she wonders at his long held courage.

They shared the thought that in these times, it was
Get Your Shit Together Time for each, and he seemed
ready to face his emotional homework that he knows
he’s run away from all his life.

She meanwhile, faced her own demons, largely making
her own way, creating money out of nothing, and
remaining steadfast in their pledge to eachother.

The future looked brighter, and the meantime held
magic here…. and there as well, as his
magnificent clarity returned.

 

 

…ten days later…

She was feeling a little more like herself now, a bit more like
she was pulling her molecules together to become a whole,
after the presence of someone’s strong and compelling aura.
Like moving out of the influence of another planetary pull.
A month was a long long time….

Still fighting the bladder infection that had attacked her in
Brasil, her skin was hived and the body did its best to rid itself
of toxins by sweats and exhaustion.
Medications were in order…

Meanwhile, the questions just compounded themselves, one
upon another, and the more they stacked up, the more confusing
her future looked.  How could she even make plans for anything?

Every Two Days he changed his thoughts of how
this should proceed:
First… she was going back, as soon as her life was processed
and in order … and the house in Ibicui beckoned sweetly…

Then …he decided he would just get the hell out of Brasil,
and come to her and the States.  She loved that idea.

It was obvious he needed to leave that prison he resided in,
the place of his birth, with the presence of parents and all the
hated and hateful memories the place embodied…
…and all the negative habits and connections that were
so easy for him to fall back to…

He had loved it here… she could easily set up a life in her little
seaport of that NorCal coastal town… she was well established
there, lots of friends and contacts, and moving back was a dream
of hers anyway.   He could get back into diving, get his boat…

But then!… Now…. he has decided he needs to get a boat, and
sail here …and it will take time… two years maybe, he says!
What ?  Some sort of odyssey that he now must fulfill?
This was getting crazy making, and her head spun.

What his motivations were, how sound his thinking was, how
clear his mind…or unclear… was out of reach and unknowable.
She wondered if legalities, the wars, the extreme way the US
was behaving, what with Little Bush and the Terrorism Fiasco.
Maybe he was thinking he wouldn’t be able to get into the
US, with his past history in the Legion, and his
Revolutionary actions as a youth…

It seemed like he was loosing faith in all of it, and once she
was gone, it was like he slipped back into confused whirlpools
of old ghost shadows.
Of course he needed to do whatever he needed to do, and she
was quite willing to wait for his own personal resolutions…
But… things had become so unclear…

Journal, March 22…
“Two Years?  What the heck does that mean?  I feel he’s leaving
it all up to me, I feel like he’s not really done anything he said
he’d do… I don’t know how I feel about marriage anymore, as
now, from what he has said, I think he has been married several
times, and never divorced!

I have no idea what the truth is.  I feel manipulated again, and
I cannot allow that to happen.
I need to write clearly what I need to ask and say,  as my life
hangs in the balance… I literally cannot move left or right
until we have some sort of a plan. ”

She had been in a temporary situation when she’d found him, and
now that she was back, it was time to make a move of some sort.
But how could she decide, when all this hung in the balance?

She made a giant list of all the questions raging in her mind …
Basically she wanted the Plan… if he had one.  Something tangible.
When she’d left, he had told her his plans…

*We’d each find out information about marriages such as theirs.
*He’d stop drinking, swim everyday, and loose weight.
*He’d start to create a new way of thinking…

She spoke to him in her mind…
“I don’t see anything of this from you…. I feel like it’s now
all up to me…
You are thinking in the old way, stuck in a defeatist place,
in the toxic environment that you’re used to…
Has anything changed at all…?

I feel like You’re thinking like a LONER, and like,
I can come along if I want…
But you set no timeline, nor make any real commitment…
What has changed for you, since I left…?

I still feel you need to get out of there, to clear your mind…
I need you to meet me halfway, and think in new ways …

We could make money here, convert to Twice that in Brasilian
Reis, and buy our fantasy place, boat, whatever we want…

Three months is my limit to float and wait… beyond that I will
have to set up my own place here, and my income will go for that,
and not our future….

My entire life is on hold, in limbo, and completely confusing…

What do you want?  How do you want that to happen…and
Can you make a plan and hold to it?”

She waited for his answer… in whatever form it might come.