I saw you today! I don’t know if what I saw was an image magicked up in my mind or an act of nature’s light, but I saw a man who looked just like you walking on the other side of the street. I froze, just staring as he – you - walked by. The same hair. The same walk. I wanted to run across the street, but could only sit frozen to my bench, staring at the place he had disappeared into, hoping against hope and reason that you would miraculously reappear, my heart banging against the wallls of my chest.
Of course it wasn’t really you. I know that. I wonder what I would do if I ever saw you again. Would I run forward and wrap myself around you or stand still and hope for you to approach me? Oh my head is full of questions! I am hobbled by questions. I yearn for you, and feel frozen in time. Other people pass. Cars, trains, seasons. I walk among them unseen and unnecessary. Like a spirit wandering the earth, occasionally interacting with someone or something, but leaving no impression, making no impact. Just wandering and searching for answers.
Mom’s birthday so I phoned her from Arles. Actually her birthday was yesterday but the only phone I could get to all day did not work. I had to spend a lot of my $30 phone call apologizing for missing the actual day. I always seem to start conversations with Mom with an apology. “People are beginning to wonder when you are coming home. I’ve told them Christmas so you had better make your arrangements.”
I suspect this is partly her way of saying she misses me but I just can’t play the game. I tell her it won’t be that soon.
“Well, what do I do when they ask me when you’ll be home?”
“Do nothing. Let them ask.” Does she really think I care about other people’s questions? I have enough of my own! Then she asked how I was enjoying my holiday. Holiday! Doesn’t she know that my heart is broken and I long for death? Of course not. That’s my own private turmoil. I told her of the ruins in Arles, and how picturesque they are in Autumn mists, what I’m reading and what fashions people are wearing. I have no idea really, I make up stuff about hem lengths and heel heights and hope it sounds convincing and provides the information she wants to hear. My money runs out and I still haven’t really told her anything. I want her to know what I am feeling but I don’t want to worry her. I want her to be proud of me, but not to overestimate my abilities. I want to see and do the things she would approve of, but can’t get enthusiastic about most of them. She wants to know everything I’ve done but I feel too lethargic to remember all the museum names, and too embarrassed to tell her it’s mostly just walking and killing time. Her questions feel intrusive, her comments dismissive. I didn’t ask anything about her and she asked too much about me. My answers became shorter, and we finished our conversation, both dissatisfied. 
No comments:
Post a Comment