… talk …

After she got off the phone, after his terrible confession,
she sat for a while.
Her hands were shaking horribly, as they had been since
he’d begun telling her.
Just by his tone, she had known what was coming, and her
body had begun quaking just a bit, as her mind stood still.

And now she cried.  Of course she did, and for a long time.
The words escaping from her mouth were only for herself
and the sky, but they poured out none the less.
She cried so much she wondered if the sobs would ever leave,
but of course they did.  They washed out with the rain, and
then the journal came out.

Pages of rants, cries, whys, how could hes, how will it evers,
and so forth.  For pages…

Not that she was not experienced at these sorts of things.
On the contrary, she had been married to what had turned
out to be a sex addict, although she was too naiive to know
it at the time.
She thought he was just figuring himself out, in that cute little
sixties way, and she being in the Hippie mode, thought it was
healthy to let him.  She had trusted him implicitly.
They were going to be completely honest with eachother…
Although actually it was the seventies, and not quite as
innocent anymore.
The worst part about it was not the sex with others…
it was the lies and hiding for a month, and then the confessions,
the tears, and then realizing that a month had gone by with
his hiding it and lying, and eventually it just made her mad…
….Mad…as in Crazy.  Eventually All Trust was Destroyed.

Well, at least he told me, she thought….and quickly.
But I’m not there, and I don’t know when I will be, and he’s
way to cute and crazy Not to stray once in a while, even when
I Am there.  That Latin men thing.  Male privilege.

The ole double standards thing, which is one of the two
worst things ever, as far as she was concerned.
The other is being taken for granted.
They sort of go hand in hand, don’t they.

It was 5 or 6 when the phone rang, insistently dragging her
out of her solitary sad, forcing her to clear her throat,
put on the smile voice, and answer.


“Well… do you have anything you wanna say to me?”
the Voice came.

“Not really.  I guess that depends on what you have to say to me…”

“I’m not doing too well…. I drank almost a whole bottle” …
…she knew this meant scotch, his favorite imbibement.

“I can’t sleep, I’m not feeling too good about myself,” he continued,
“and I want to apologize.”

“What are you apologizing for?” she ventured, honestly unsure
of where he was at in all of this.

“For breaking our agreement to eachother.  I knew it was wrong
when I was doing it.  It meant nothing.  There is no relationship,
no time spent together, only sex.”

“Does she know about me?” she now wondered, as she really
didn’t know this side of him, nor how he behaved in these times.

“Yes, she knows about you, of course, what do you think?
I’m not a scoundrel.  I’m not going to tremble before you.
I’m not going to sweat…. well….
this is not a video phone, so if I do sweat you won’t know…”

Well…she thought…. he’s doing pretty well so far.  Saying
the right things anyway.  It’s just the trust thing.  The not
knowing what was true, and what would be true, especially
at this distance.  No eyes to peer into.

The conversation closed on a neutral level, he having said
what he needed to say, she unable to move forward, let go,
believe again, but now at least  in a place where she could
see beyond the darkness, the light out there at the end of that
terrible tunnel beginning to grow just a little….





… the anniversary …

It was the day they got together… hooked up… did it
for reals … and she always had remembered the day.
It was easy… the Fourth of July.

People joke about it, how getting together with someone
was like the Fourth, skyrockets, all that, but it was that
too… and on the very Day, with the sounds and flashes
still reverberating in the night skies.

That was a long time ago.. 1987… yet it was clear as spring
water on a summer’s day.

It’s 2005, and she called him all day.
It was the first time the date had come around since
they had found eachother again.

She called into the night, but no answer.  The phones
were often out in Brasil, but it was odd that no one
answered for so long.
It was mid morning on the Fifth that he picked up…
he’d not been home that long.

“How Are you?”… his jolly voice barked at her.
“Sad and lonely… not good this week” she drifted off.
“Really?” came the response.  Quiet…

“Where have you been?” she asked quietly, the first thing
on her mind, relief and strange wondering mixing in her.

“Oh, I was checking out a job, I was visiting a friend, I got
a haircut… I Knew it was our Day …blah blah …”
…..the list went on, but she wasn’t hearing the details,
only the tone.  A certain manic thing…

“Listen… I have to tell you.  I wasn’t looking, but I got
a haircut, and I ran into someone I’d known before…
(her heart suddenly went dead)

“well, I don’t have to tell you do I?
I’m not going to apologize.
It meant nothing…

“….Say something…!”

She was without words.  The sounds were there, but nothing
came from her lips.  Her breath came in shallow whispers.
(please allow me to absorb this, she thought, but could not say)

“If you go out and do something to retaliate, it’s over!”…
…he shot back at her over the line.

“It was just sex, tits and ass…”
Quickly he evaporated the subject, and his hurried voice
filled in the hollows.

“I want to buy a ticket for my wife to come here…
I caught a 30# fish, I’m good, you’re gonna be so
proud you chose me…”

Still she could not form words… everything was floating.

“I’m not going to say it was the alcohol or the drugs…
I wanted her, she appealed to me …
I’m being modest here…
I had a hard time.  I decided I needed a reward….

“Do you want to think about it and call me later…?

His voice went on in her ear, she doing her best to just
hear what the words were, and put them away for keeping,
to interpret them later…

“If you don’ wanna speak with me ever again, just let me know…
I’ll pay you back what I owe you.  I’ll sell my car, my watch…”

….”Do you love me?”….

While he waited for her to breath again, he started singing
Lou Reed’s  “Walk on the Wild Side”, and when he got to
…”an’ the colored girls sang do de doo de doo…”,
she almost threw up.

“I can’t do this right now” came out of her mouth instead,
and she hung up.