If you asked me a year ago about a boring day, I would have fallen on the ground and laughed in your face. Not that I didn’t long for the infamous ‘boring day’, I did. I definitely did.
In fact I was chasing them. Or I was otherwise fabricating them out of illusion. It was right about a year ago that I spent a weekend with my ex, tucked away in an airbnb in NY state. A meeting point between here and Boston.
It was the first and little did I know, last, nights we would spend together after that god awful October day that was just shy of a year.
I felt as though I had stolen a couple nights of who he could be – what it could and should have been.
I don’t think I ever told anyone I met him. I feared judgment if I did as much as I didn’t want anything to taint the stolen time, because it was stolen time.
It was stolen from the work I was doing on myself and stolen time of a lul in his using. It was everything and nothing.
When I write I am not often emotional but looking back now seeing that was the ‘it’, the last time. I’m stopping myself from delving into the memory of that weekend too much.
Maybe it is ok that I keep that my sacred shred of anything good. Maybe that is ok. So little is private anymore. A google search turns up enough a court record search turns up enough. But then again, it was probably a fuck hell of alot more meaningful to me than anyone else.
Stop chasing ghosts of a man who ceases to exist. Ok. That man is in LCP until 8/24 at the earliest, that is when his ICC conviction runs out and he can ‘post’ his ‘bail’ from the shittastic Lancaster County Judge who modified it. (It should be noted he can’t make the conditions of that mod per the ADA/VA so maybe I can sleep easy for a little longer).
That would bring us to just another boring August summer day.
I do enjoy August after all…