Waving Not Drowning

He's not showing up. It's been over two months of I really want to I'll do my best What do you feel, What do you hope for? I want to plan a trip, I want to spend time together to I'll be in San Ysidro. The other side of the continent. The thunder explodes outside her window. She's new here. First storm. Let's see if everything holds. She'd been doing her best to ask for what she wanted but could sense a push pull from him. You here? I'm here. All in. Retract. Apologize, explain, go ahead. Now It's ultimatums and irritations. This is how I am to This doesn't work for me. An object in motion stays in motion. Until An outside force bigger than the primary driver diverts the energy and changes the direction. Slow down. Patience. Hold. Wait- no. Keep going. You do you, she says. She wonders where expectation lives. Three days. That's her rule. Get in, unpack, hang everything in it's proper place.

It's almost time. Unless of course he's late. She's too tired to fight him anymore and really, traffic is insane these days. That's why she picks Aaron up after school and spends an hour and fifteen minutes at The Second Cup waiting for Chris to show up. The hand off. The passover. Wednesday afternoon to Thursday night, every second weekend, alternating high holidays. It used to be a hassle but they've settled into a quiet, comfortable groove. Surprising themselves at how much better they are as co parents than partners. Better friends than lovers. Taking the long way around. The same table every week, tucked into the corner on the club chairs with the noisy fabric. She smuggles in a juice box and over ripe banana but makes sure to fork out for a medium sized hot chocolate with extra whip to justify their monopolizing of real estate. It's prime time, this 4 to 5:15 pm slot. The same faces every week. She wonders where their passovers take place.

Side effects may include loss of sight, smell, raging diarrhea, flatulance, leaky gut syndrome, and an overall sense of malaise. Rare cases of stage 4 terminal lymphoma-based cancers have been known to occur. (Sorry) Suicidal thoughts, questioning one's self worth and life's purpose may also occur. Avoid if pregnant or nursing Thinking about pregnancy Thinking about dating Which may possibly lead to sex Which may accidentally lead to pregnancy with some emotionally unavailable douchenozzle who will flip out and go ballistic when you tell him after the fact that you've decided you're just not that into the idea of parenting to begin with so you'll be making the choice to terminate without his input, thank you very much. In other words, engage at your own risk. At this point, Barb's forgotten why she was even considering treatment at all. Why not just stay home, bake artisanal vegan macarons and write the next great travel guide to south western Utah.

If she leaves now, there's a good, no, a GREAT chance he won't see her. He's buried in his phone with his headphones on. Perfect. She's got her back to the door, her hoodie's around her waist, toque pulled low, massive glasses obscuring her face. She can grab her bag, scoop up her laptop and just GO. Shit. Shit shit shit shit. Mel? Is that you? Fer crissake- why do people say that? She shared a bed with him for two years, six months and 13 and a half days. She picked gingersnap crumbs off his chest while he slurped Earl Grey tea, and read racing biographies to him out loud for hours on end. They'd stumble over each other in the bathroom half naked, jockeying for space in the mirror. That beard. His cheap clippers tripping the fuse. Every single time. No one groomed longer than Alan. He's really not sure it's her? This from the man who mapped the freckles on her body with a Sharpie. Who tattooed her name on the inside of his bicep s