07-16-02 - 5:24 p.m.
after a sleepness night, i called him from my desk at the hotel, and before he could cleverly manipulate the odds, i threw down my cards.
loving you should be simple, i told him, but the restrictions and limitations are killing me. i need perspective. time away from us.
we both know that won't help, he said. we've tried it before. we're addicted to each other.
i don't know where i fit into your life, i said. you don't even know anymore, unless we're in bed and the moment is right. i refuse to be a liability.
he accused me of games. ultimatums. failing him when he's too overworked and tired to talk me out of it. all this from my best friend, my soulmate, the man who tirelessly encourages my search for an unattached mr. right.
suddenly i didn't like him very much, and it shocked me. i hung up as he turned from his phone to shoo away a faceless laborer. he didn't call back, but he will, a day or a week or even a month from now, when he regains control of his haphazard life and realizes there's a gaping hole in his heart that only i can fill. in the meantime, my search for perspective includes a busy hotel, a homeless couple nine centimeters from a baby named cougar, and a wayward teenaged daughter who, inexplicably, has begun to hug me again.
oh, and bruce. like always, he's the background for the moment;
it ought to be simple,
it ought to be easy enough;
man meets woman and they fall in love,
but the house is haunted and the ride gets rough;
you've got to learn to live with what you can't rise above,
if you want to ride on down,
down into this tunnel of love.