Bits And Pieces

honeymoon in Laguna Beach, CA

She wanted to believe it wouldn’t matter that she hadn’t turned out special, perfect
He’d remember their time and love her anyway  — again, still
But they were both so different,
All those years ago when they were young and fresh.
She remembered his arms feeling big and strong around her as they caressed, so softly all the rolling curves of her body.
He would hop and skip as they walked almost as if in a state of delight.
Arm over her shoulder – she just a little bit shy of tucking comfortably under his arm.
Very often they would pull each other close and turn slightly in to kiss and hug –
hardly able to stand the space there was between them.
They floated up steep inclines at Laguna Beach for the few days that they stayed there
The adrenaline of love flowing so freely that no effort caused any struggle.
“Our honeymoon“, they’d recall it later as.
Eating at wonderful restaurants
Starring into each other’s faces
Yakking and yakking about everything, nothing under the sun.

Here he was again knocking on her door –
So to speak –
Asking if he could come in again –
There was no knowing for how long –
He was telling her all about his life and Kay, now Kate he called her
And all their children together — the ones that came before them.
Life had gone on –
They all continued to know him –
To have him –
She had had to let go.
She hadn’t wanted to.
All things work out as they should –
It seems.
It can seem altogether too hard then suddenly make perfect sense and all the pain melt into an explanation of why it had to have been as it was.

Purple shocks
He mocked them
Purple socks
They were her purple socks, but they went with his new, slightly purple slacks and he was trying to become more attuned to fashion
And be adventurous
Be free to be

purple shocks, purple socks

She hemmed his new pants as they talked, and yakked in the room at the Surf and Sand Motel
Waves relentlessly rushing in amid their sentences

Laguna Beach, CA, Surf and Sand Motel

Going to dinner, they were getting dressed up so they could feel the essence of their specialness
Wearing their new things, hemming their new things, together, for each other.
Learning to temper infatuation with reality, trying to fathom the possibility of this new passion lasting,

Going to dinner, we were getting dressed up so we would feel the essence of our specialness

It would take fourteen years for her to get on with anything like a semblance of life
Fourteen years of trying to find herself without him somewhere in the margins.

They would only manage to fight for three or four years and then drag the thread of their narrative out to span the time of six or seven years thereafter.
First it would be six weeks.
Then two months.
A year would go by,
A call in the night.
The familiar gruffness of his voice would lure her into his spell for another year to pass again with just a night together in between…
Then two years..
Then three…
Then she lost track
of when he came again.

Because she had met a new man,
a tall, dark, curly-haired devil.
She was trying to find the essence of herself again now without thinking it would be better with the devil —
But in between the curly hair and another fifteen years
The gruff voice called and wondered if they might be able to spend a day or two remembering.

And then there he was at her door. She saw him as he got out of his rented car.
She said to herself, “oh no, that is not him” and wondered if she could get through a whole two days.

It can seem altogether too hard then suddenly make perfect sense and all the pain melt into an explanation of why it had to have been as it was.

She had been in love with the life, the style of life, the solitude they’d had living in a trailer at the top of the hill at his motorcycle park.
She loved sweeping the floors while he ran the tractor and of looking out the window to see his dog following up the steep hill chasing a rabbit while he took the moguls out of the dirt or put them in.
She loved the sound of the train in the far off distance and the plans she would make in her head of a vegetable garden.
And the sound of the rain tapping the tin roof and of making love,
his soft blue eyes
Looking at her as if she was a princess.

a princess

They spent two days and it seemed that he had as much trouble getting through it as she did.
Then they said goodbye.
It was a very sad goodby. It was goodbye to a dream. She thinks it was sadder for her. She thinks he likely never felt the same about it as she had.
It was gone. It was finally over.

Now she found a picture of the newer man in among the things that she was trying to organize, get rid of or put in their proper places.
She put it in a plastic cover and hung it with a paper clip over the label holder of her file cabinet.
It was staring at her regularly now so she could turn and look at it and dream of a new
vegetable garden.
All the knowing of him had been the same — a few wonderful moments between the counting of years.
She guesses she might just be that way, only able to see someone in little bits and pieces.

She has two cats and no children. She has a few close friends and lots of books to read. She digs in dirt and tries to grow thing like she always wanted. It all keeps her pretty happy for the most part.
She only gets dressed up to go for groceries and sometimes to get some movies to watch.

She wishes it were different.
She wishes she were in love and that one loved her too.
She wishes she had a man who made her feel like she was a princess just because he was so happy to be with her and that he would put up with the little things
Like how much she still loves purple and that she still has those purple shocks
Like how she analyzes everything and wants to talk and the cats sleep on the bed at night
And her hair is gray when not a bottle blonde.
Love is blind. Holding hands the electricity creates a static that keeps them together.

Now comes the call she can hear his smile and they talk and talk about nothing and everything.
He is writing a story about Salvichi the Coyote.
And he wants to know if she thinks he should just call it Salvichi or Salvichi the Coyote.
She says “Salvichi” but thinks the smile has lost its charm.

It is important to keep the dream.
The vegetable garden
Purple shocks
Tin roofs
Making Love
Hugs and Kisses
A nice phone smile.

The things that dreams are made of. But those were dress rehearsals and there’s something more in store she’s sure.

It can seem altogether too hard then suddenly make perfect sense and all the pain melt into an explanation of why it had to have been as it was.

Should love come again, it should be forever and one day — there isn’t much more time to play or pay.

Enough to get it right, just barely.

bits and pieces

1 thought on “Bits And Pieces

  1. Pingback: Sounds Like Addiction | Ms. Jackie of all Trades…

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