A moment in life when nothing matters.
I run my tired hands through my hair in an attempt to remind myself that I am still awake. It feels like it’s been days since I’ve had a decent rest. The stress of not knowing what tomorrow will bring has left each night rife with stained dreams, knotted sheets and sleepy eyes staring out into the darkness.
I’ve felt this way before, years ago when living on another pile of rock in the middle of a vast ocean. Those days were bitter and cold despite the 80 degree weather and 70 percent humidity. The nagging in my gut is the same as it was back then; the end is near, I’m sure of it.
I roll over and look at the alarm clock which glares back at me. 05:09AM. Damn. If I’ve gotten any rest tonight, I’ve forgotten it already. Only 51 minutes left before tomorrow begins, so I’d best make the most of it.
Burying my head in the pillow again, I pull the sheets up over my head to block out the streak of light pouring through the window from the apartment building next door. I hear water run through the walls as my neighbor gets up to take a shower, and somewhere in the early morning I hear someone walking down one of the paved paths.
It’s useless. I get up and begin fumbling through the dark towards the kitchen and plop a couple of pieces of bread in the toaster. Opening the refrigerator, I realize that there is no butter left. Dry toast isn’t the way I wanted to start my morning, but then is it really morning or just a continuation of the disappointment of yesterday? The toast pops up in defiance of my deep thoughts and I grab one of the two pieces and begin to munch on it in the middle of the linoleum sea that is my kitchen.
Yesterday was the day that I left him. He wasn’t the same man I left in the islands so many years ago, but then he also wasn’t much different from that man. It was all the same problems, just with a different partner in another space and time. Strange women, absence and a constant difference in opinion created an instant recipe for disintegration on my half of the relationship. It wasn’t so much that I minded being alone for days at a time, or even that I was jealous of the women that the men all seemed to objectify so religiously. It was more of a disdain for not knowing the parameters of the relationship to begin with. I was fine with playing by whatever rules were laid out, provided that I knew what they were and how far they were going to be pushed.
You gotta get the hell outa Oregon! 
j
excellent! truly, you got the talent! keep the pen writing…
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