Underthecurrent


peak season
April 8, 2010, 4:46 am
Filed under: nomadisms

Today a bunch of people I know, and a bunch of people I know only through pictures, left. Another season is over, the parties are done, and the storms are picking up. The winter kids will roll into town soon, the ones who come more for the swell and less for the party.

I see from pictures that Big M finally broke up with his girlfriend, trading her in for a younger blonder model and heading way up the coast. L & A are having a baby right around the time I’ll get back, that kid has such cool genes it will probably come out waving a shaka and on nodding acquaintance with all the other babes in the nursery. K’s with the wild boys on a road trip, maybe one last road trip before he goes home for the first time in years. T will still be right where he always is, the single constant who ensures the food always tastes the same, the beer is always cold, and the people serving it are perpetually beautiful.

It’s funny to think one more stormy season and then I’m probably there. These months between are tangles to unravel.

My hair had a full on rebellion against neatness at work today. It did not want to be in attendance.

Being away from L.G. is not getting easier, 2.5 months in, 5 to go. With this kind of distance it’s a new thing. He’s not home sometimes, he’s not a slightly expensive weekend plane ticket away, he’s just gone. Out of reach. He may as well be in outer space. Missing people can be a delicious part of long distance, when the time span is a month and the space is 1000 kms. It gives opportunity to revel in longing, the excitement of seeing someone. But, here, now, missing each other is the pulse in the veins of the relationship, keeping it a live thing. Increasing the volume too much is a bad idea, it’s only going to lead to dispair, but pushing the person out of your mind completely risks the connected feeling. It feels off or on, yes or no.

It’s a lot easier with long distance love affairs. Maybe we meet again, maybe we don’t. Maybe we made out at dawn three years before, and I met you last year and we spooned for a couple of nights, parted ways, and now write about our adventures and conquests on a monthly basis from far flung locales (true story). When I think of you, I smile, and it makes me happy that our paths crossed and that I have so many good memories of good people. It doesn’t require missing anyone.

I would like to reframe it in my mind so it felt more like a love affair and less like long distance, so I could think only about the good times and nothing else, but it’s not working as it should. It’s an entirely new dimension of this love thing that I didn’t know about yet.

So we write letters. See each other over grainy connections. And wait.

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