Out Of The Block

“Ridiculously late reply…”

But out of the country.

And out of my prison block, five or six in solitary confinement:

This, you, me, us.

Arrives in our Memory Woods.

Austin greets “Dude!”

I say “Hey!” and don’t remember the rest.

A loose hug.

This feels like it was yesterday and yesterday was a good day five or six years ago.

“You look happy.”

I laugh, “I know. I am. I‘ve been finishing up on business for the past years…”

This tonguing of sore hearts kept secret by the distance of years, continents, time zones, and yes--- booze--- catch us up on our lives.

I try to outline years, cuts, and slides.

Here we are now.

We begin with the thesis.

“You’ve always been an academic.”

I laugh, “Well, shit, in the academe I am not and outside of it I am. The world‘s fucked.”

“I know I did you wrong…See, you’re on top of my list…Make amends…”

I tease, “Not even the parents?” then nod, “Getting with the program, huh?” and bark a laugh, “WHAT THE FUCK WERE YOU DOING IN AA?!”

“Oh shut up! I needed it to graduate!”

I laugh, “No shit? I froze for about eight months after grad, slept for two, didn’t know what to do next, gardened, painted and was drinking the whole time. Some other things happened then I went out and got a job.”

Holy fucking shit as just “some other things.”

“Only eight months, huh? Lucky you!”

I shake my head, “Yeah. I’m not an alcoholic. The shrinks said so. I asked.”

“You’ve always been wary of shrinks.”

I laugh again, “You know why. Though I think I’ve had the last of it a couple years back…So, are we going to talk about that?”

“Only if you want to. I mean, it doesn’t have to be now if you don’t like…”

In red wine mirth, remembering that in our time talk was academic, “Sure, let’s talk about some now. I need a beer for this.”

“I remember.”

I ask, “I wonder what you remember and if you remember what I remember.”

We remember.

“Man, I could whip your ass!”

I laugh, “Of course you could! But those two old fat farts we were playing with were whipping our asses!”

“…You had an engagement after.”

I smile, “You and I would call those engagements. Nowadays I call them meetings.”

“…Tell me.”

And there, then, I want to cry but just say, “You were my friend. You took care of me.”

“You were taking care of a lot of people…Nobody was really taking care of you.”

I say, “You did.”

And more things about us, more things that people didn’t know, didn’t see.

But then---

Not ranting, just a hoarse listing of memories:

Life then

You were fucked up

You were playing with things

You said things

You did things

You---You---made me feel confused about things

How you felt---I felt for you

What was I then----if I felt that way, whatever it was, about you

You---I---felt betrayed because I had to be always guarded so that lines are not crossed---And You---You, flower, my friend, safe---were crossing that line, too?

What was that?

Was that it?

And there I was, in the middle, and you, all, were telling me DON’T LEAVE ME

When I wanted to scream----LEAVE ME ALONE--- it came calm.

Life was cracking, all jokes, spinning.

Then next you were gone.

You just left.

You left me.

You said you wouldn’t.

I trusted you.

You left a hole, five or six in solitary confinement.

I ask, “Couldn’t you even say goodbye? Were you scared? Just ran away? What?”

“No, it’s…”

I say, “…You forgot somewhere along the way who I was and who were the people around me to me, that bloody history…Our intertwining narratives.”

“I like that--- intertwining narratives.”

I laugh, “Yeah…I knew you were looking for me, when you came back after a year or so of being away. But I wasn’t ready.”

“I understood… I thought you‘d never talk to me again…”

I ask, “So when did you turn lesbo?”

“A couple of years ago.”

I ask, “How?”

“…She was hot…So there.”

I laugh, “When I heard, it made sense.”

“I understand… I left you alone with all that---”

I say, “Cleaning up all that muck, fuck. And I had to hide all that grief, losing you. You know how I am---”

“Yeah, nobody will ever know how much you’re hurt …And what? You got sick and nobody knew? Geez, man, God knows what else you‘ve been hiding… ”

This sweet relief of you.

I laugh, “And I don’t talk to others the way I talk to you.”

“And Dude, you know I don’t really talk to people, only to you.”

I feel it then.

I say, “You hurt me…It will take time.”

“I know… But I’m here.”

I say, “Okay…Next time, I‘ll tell you more of life-screwing-stories. Funny.”

Humor.

From being grave, a serious grave.

Yours is still dry.

I laugh, “And they say I’m funny.”

I can be silly:

That made you laugh.

You tease me about wearing big earrings now.

I tell you that I no longer wear the other four.

You noticed:

No longer hiding in androgyny.

And that I wear the forbidden by vertigo heels.

“But ah, you still walk with baby steps.”

I quietly laugh, “Yeah, yeah, only you would notice and understand things like that.”

We walk.

I’m taller, bigger and yet I always feel like the cherished small when I’m with you.

That guiding hand that doesn’t touch me, courteous.

I give a quick hug, a light kiss on the cheek.

Goodbye.

For now.

You immediately send a message.

I reply, “I’m happier you’re back… I missed you.”

The world felt incomplete.

You’re here.

It feels like it is now.

Almost.