Waving Not Drowning

Sometimes she lies. Just a bit. Smoothes over the rough spots without breaking his heart. Or betraying hers. The sin of omission. It's second nature now. A slight smile, an imperceptible nod followed with a hmm or an uh huh. He doesn't notice most of the time. Or so it seems. The level of disconnect is tacitly agreed upon in the silent storm that brews between them, slowly picking up steam, until the gale force of indifference blows them apart. He listens halfway. She stews passive aggressively. Mind like a steel trap, remembering every single word, thoughtless aside. Half-hearted kiss. There is hair growing out of his ears. His eyebrows are unruly. This repulses her. His skin is losing it's tenacity around his already weak chin. All she can see is his disappearing profile. It used to be his smile and ever so slight gap toothed grin would leave her a wet mess on the floor. The imperfections turned her on to  no end. He was rough around the edges, soft in the  ...

"People mistake confidence for courage. Being courageous, truly courageous, requires so much more than brazen cocky confidence. I'm not saying that all confidence comes from narcissism, that's not what I mean; but sometimes being brave, or selfless, and truly, profoundly courageous requires a selflessness, a risk, a sacrifice of ego and agenda that some people mistake for confidence when in fact it's so much more. Truly." Farley stops short. Maude has shifted her gaze over his shoulder and is fixated on the huge neon painted banner tacked up to the south side wall of the Agora. Her eyes slowly expand as the recognition factor sinks in. It's literally like watching pennies drop and tumblers fall into place, unlocking the final puzzle. Farley is sweating, he can feel his upper lip slick with moisture, his crotch moist in beige pants, visions of sweat stains in embarrassing places. "You see Maude, um, sometimes confidence blinds other people to the fact that...

We just don't understand each other, I guess. What do you want from me? Erik was detached, barely repressing his thinly veiled irritation with Lindsay. It's been going on for months. The same argument, back and forth, circling down the drain, an endless spiral of  miscommunication. So decayed it's coming apart in pieces. Wow. Just wow. Lindsay has no other words. A year of hoping against hope he'd come around Lindsay is realizing that it's over. Erik is in it for Erik and Erik alone. And the booze. Lindsay's fallen apart physically, her body shut down months ago and she's muscling through day to day trying to stave off her own implosion. The wilful self destruction of their lives. So this is the way it ends, not with a bang, but a whimper. The end of the what ifs, the could be's, the happily ever after, like peeling back layers of newly formed skin on the scab that just won't heal. They're too far gone to find the horizon and get back to an ev...

Greta is not looking forward to this conversation but it is happening whether she likes it or not. The mere thought of confrontation gives her all-over hives. That nauseating gut-drop where you feel like your insides are falling out through your pelvis? Yeah, that's what she is feeling right now, like she's nearing the top of the 90 degree drop on one of those insane new fangled roller coasters that are designed to scare the living shit out of you. In through her  nose, out through her nose. Deep cleansing breaths. Dammit, where's the tequila? I mean, really, that's what I need, she thinks. No, no, this is a time to stay stone cold sober and focus on what I want and how to impart that information without getting inappropriately personal or ringing big old bells that cannot be un rung. Un rung? Huh. Is that even a word? Okay, okay....Greta continues with the pep talk, the interior monologue of a varsity cheerleader, channeling her best Deepak Tony Iyanla Mandela Rumi sel...

She wouldn't let him be who he was. Suzanne is so meticulous and rigid in her space that he felt  unwanted. Too messy and disorganized, too dynamic. Jory asked if he could have his old space back but Karyn had made her home there now and wasn't about to move again. She'd refinished the kitchen floors and resurfaced the cabinets and hooked up a portable washer. He did end up finding a really great apartment, a gorgeous 5 1/2 in the Plateau that came with appliances and had a great little garden with direct light. Rare here. More importantly, he can build his art there and make a joyful noise without feeling like a child being scolded by his mother. Strange how people suddenly become un-engaged. Jory tries to remember what it was that pulled them into each other's kinesphere, spinning tight circles in a rapidly increasing rhythm until they spun out completely, adrift in solar systems universes apart. Light fades. Meaning distorts. Truth wins out in the end, however discom...