"...gonna stop at every bar and flirt with the cowboys in front of their girlfriends..."

Holy Shit. Where does the time go?

Seems like just yesterday I was here. Was here and wrote something down even. But time flies, flows onward. Sometimes quickly, sometimes slowly. But onward. Except in the mind.

Which is why sometimes it seems like just yesterday I met him. Sometimes it feels like yesterday too that I lost him, that he had to move on, go his own way.

For some reason I can't put my finger on, today feels like that day.

And it all comes rushing in, rushing back. Not so much the anger anymore--that I let go of long ago--but the loss, that comes back time to time.


(you might want to listen as you read: Wedding Day by Rosie Thomas here.)

"So much for love, I guess I've been wronged but it's alright cause I'm moving on.
I've got my car all packed with cassette tapes and sweaters and loose change and cheap cigarettes.
I'm gonna drive through the hills, put my hand out the window and sing till I run out of words.
I'm gonna stop at every truck stop make small talk with waiters and truck drivin men..."


I know it wasn't any one's fault really. It wasn't planned. It just happened. We met, we went home together, we were just gonna have a good time. No one was supposed to get hurt, just a little messin around.

But, I fell. He fell too (though I would not realize exactly how much till some years later). Really, that was not supposed to happen. Course the fact that we saw each other again, and again, and again didn't help any.

I was young. He was was too, though older than me. He was beautiful. I remember he was wearing a muscle tee that first night. Playing pinball. In a pair of old, worn jeans. His hips bumping, bucking, into the machine, never losing control of the ball. I was rapt with attention as I watched every sinew of every taut muscle. He ruled his game. He knew I was watching him. He knew I had my mind made up we were going to sleep together. I know he knew. Every movement he made told me so.

His black hair damp with sweat, he came over to me later, to say hello. The bar was not crowded, yet there were too many people there we both knew. She was one. She was his friend. And an acquaintance of mine. I knew her, but not well. She'd seen us talking and I'd guess the smile I gave him--my fucking smile always gives me away (except when I am playin poker, then I can manage a deceit or two). She waited till he moved away from me for a minute. He went to piss or maybe to the bar for more whiskey. I don't remember which for certain. That's when she came over to warn me. I forget her exact words, but there was a coldness to them that lingered.

"Yeah, I've had enough of love it feels good to give up, so good to be good to myself
I'm gonna get on the highway with no destination but plenty of vision in mind
I'm gonna drive to the ocean, go skinny dippin with kisses to Venus and Mars
I'm gonna stop at every bar and flirt with the cowboys in front of their girlfriends..."

I didn't pay much attention to what she had to say. I was young, remember. And she seemed jealous. Of me? Of him? Maybe she was jealous that we were young and smiling and flirting and we were gonna fuck. It was clear by now. To her, to anyone really who cared to look closely---you could see it in both our eyes. And fuck we did later that night. In the kitchen, on the bed, on the floor. We were young remember. And we reveled in it.

I remember his breath hot on my face, on my neck, on my ear as he told me how good it felt to hold me. And I liked the feeling of being wrapped in his arms. He was on me, in me and me in him. My entire body reverberated with some basic and elemental joy. That sounds corny, I know, but I'm not sure I've ever felt that genuinely safe, or loved, or satisfied. It was like sinking into to time, into the eternity of a single moment. He felt it too. I could sense as much, his head resting on my chest, his breath slow, easy, serene...full.

We had no disagreements, no tension, no harsh words. Not even at the end. Who could be angry after all, given what we shared. We simply enjoyed being together. Minutes, hours, days-- which turned into weeks. We didn't see each other every day. Sometimes several days would go by before we could be together, but then we would. And time would stop for us again, and linger.

One day, he told me it couldn't go on. It was all very reasonable. At least it seemed that way at the time. I could see the pain in him. I felt it in me. It was done. It wasn't any one's fault really. That was just the way it was. We spent one last night together. And in that night I forgave him. But I've never forgotten him. And I still reserve a little room for him, a little space for him deep within. And that, unlike time, does not fall to the wayside.

"So much for love, I guess I been wronged but it's alright cause I'm moving on.
I'm gonna drive over hills, over mountains, and canyons, and boys that keep bringing me down.
I'm gonna drive under skylines and sunshine, drink good wine at vineyards and get asked to dance.
I'm gonna be carefree and let nothing pass me by never ever again..."**


**lyrics and music from Wedding Day, by Rosie Thomas. here's her website.