inescapable meetings

it’s not like you can run to your husband, jump on, lick and kiss him like a happy dog when he gets home from work every day. i mean, you could, but it’s not recommended unless he really likes it. maybe that’s first year marriage stuff. not sure. getting him to stay in bed with you instead of going into work, or getting him to come home early for all kinds of never-ending surprises – do people still do that stuff after year one? or two? i’ve been working with some people so long i’ve cycled with them through several serious relationships and i’m not even sure what serious means cause anything else sounds like a joke. a guy i stopped working with a year ago due to irreconcilable differences (he was too bitchy) reached out recently and gave me some updates on his life. he’d lost his mom, his husband had lost his dad, his business failed, and during covid the husband cheated on him. so after fifteen years they’re divorcing and each moving away from the place they’ve called home for the last forty years. I can pick up a hat and pull the names of 20 people I worked with five or ten years ago and would put money that 80% are not in the same relationships.

i dunno what to make of it nor do i know why it upsets me. probably because it tears at the fabric of my belief that relationships can last forever. there’s little proof my belief is true, and if it’s not it means i might be forever relegated to dreams and fantasy like all the other bloke and blokettes closing their eyes to what’s in front of them to gaze in favor of what the heart sees. there’s unspoken trust in that gaze. it’s that far off look that indicates daydreaming. or a seizure. either way it’s a sign that neurons are firing faster than the physical self’s ability to move through space and time.

feels like my writing is getting more and more disjointed by the day. sign of the times maybe.

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