Wednesday, December 24, 2014

Another Year Older

And then it was my birthday.

And then I was turning 38 years old.

And then I was a year older and wiser.

And then I was sitting in a bed and contemplating it all.

And then there was the Irish. I’d wondered if I would hear from him at all on my journey home. While I knew I wouldn’t see him, I did wonder if I would hear from him.

We don’t talk anymore. Our conversations have lost their substance and simple become part of the background noise. This morning we started as usual, but then the walls came off of it and the box opened up and we really talked.

And then I remembered why I missed him.

And I think for a few minutes he may have remembered why he missed me.

As I turned older we went back over some roads; we hashed it out. There was hurt and bitterness, some joy, some yelling and anger, some remorse and joking. We were human beings for a moment.

And then I smiled.

And then I wished I could go to Daegu.

I would not go to Daegu. Daegu is full of ghosts and haunted corners and going to Daegu would be unwise. After nine months of therapy I felt good going to Korea, but I wasn’t ready for Daegu. I knew this, and I think my shrink would have agreed. Our conversation was strong and pulled on me and I wanted a moment, a singular moment.

And then the moment passed.

And then I was older and sitting in a kitchen at a computer with a blinking cursor.

And then my phone rang.

I wish I could have taken that ring back, to have left my phone sitting on the counter and just left it as it was…but I couldn’t, and I wouldn’t have. It was a moment. A single connected moment with all the wistfulness of what there once was.

And then it was over.

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