The song ends, and she takes a drink from her beer as I
drink her presence in.
We haven’t been dating very long- a couple of weeks, at this
point. We’ve settled into relaxing with music, drinks and each other’s company after
the kids are fast asleep.
I’m mesmerized by her. It’s been a long time since a woman
had my attention the way that Jennifer has it. I take another drink, my eyes
slide past her, subtly. Watching her out of the corner of my eye- rapt, but not
wanting her to know how much of my attention she is actually occupying.
Her hand rests on mine. I don’t move, because I don’t want
to change anything about this moment. The music has ended. I know that I should
get up, move to the computer and play more music- to extend this perfection- to
prevent anything from interfering with this brief slice of love.
But I don’t want to take her hand off mine.
…
I watch her eyes as she looks around my living room, she
takes in the art on the walls, the pictures of the kids, the family, and her
eyes end up on my bookshelf. She glances from book to book- and I see her
confusion. Who has books? Who reads? It’s plainly illustrated across her
features as she is trying to map my persona into her world…
She can’t hide her disdain, her smile morphs into a frown. I
see it coming, and I squeeze her hand and rise- “Need another drink?” Yes, my go to excuse for avoidance.
“Shuure… “ I go to get us both another drink. A part of me
hopes that she won’t go there- but I know it’s coming- it always does, with the
simple ones.
“Sooo- you read a lot, huh?”. I take a long gulp, then smile, bend to kiss
her brow and hand her another beer.
“Yes.”
“Do you think all those books make you smart?”
I don’t tell her what I want to, that everything that you read,
that you experience, that you absorb- makes you more. It’s too abstract to
explain. I just say- “I just like to read.”
Perhaps she senses my apprehension. Maybe she feels
inadequate and wants to level the playing field in her mind. I see it coming
and I can’t stop it.
“I read a lot too.” She informs me. “But I only read one
book.”
Of course you only do, you sweet, beautiful woman, of course
you only do. Its times like this, I realize that if there is a God, he sure
loves to fuck with me.
I don’t ask, because, really? There’s no need. But she tells
me, anyway. “The Bible.” Well, the
sarcastic side of me says, I didn’t imagine you were re-reading Charlotte’s
Web. But the part of me that was thinking I could fall in love with her only
says… “I respect that.” But I don’t. How can I respect someone who has only
ever opened one book?
I take another big drink. She continues on, about how the
only book anyone needs is the bible and everything else just confuses the
singularity of our souls…
I take another drink. And I turn the music back up.
And I tell God- Wipe that shit eating Grin off your face,
smartass.
PostScript:
I remember a moment where I told myself that I would find
God for a girl like her.
Then I think, I wish that she would’ve said to herself: “I’d find reality for a boy like him”.
But in the end, all that I really wanted was a woman who
could understand me, at least a little bit.
And- she didn’t- and so, this song has ended- but I remember
its beautiful melody- wrapped up in illusion as it was…
Kirk, May 2015- Levelland, TX
