Fondly: Deep Down


I was sitting on the porch. I’d been back there pretty much since getting home, save for a moment to eat and empty the dishwasher. The weather was so beautiful…so perfect…The sun was starting to set, and the cicadas were singing loudly—calling out and answering to another group off in the distant elsewhere. I wondered what they were saying.

Probably good-bye to the summer.

Earlier, I got lost staring at the sky, still warm and blue, as the clouds rolled by at a low, lulling pace, shifting as they went. I hadn’t really done that since I was a child, sitting in the grass under a tree in the park; the park I played baseball and soccer in, flew kites with my father and sister—the park I would one day smoke cigarettes and have sex in. I just sat and stared at the clouds, finding the shapes and silhouettes of dragons, a drowning man, a bear and a lonely hand reaching out towards the sun.

My dog was keeping himself entertained behind me, occasionally getting distracted by a twig, or the sound of another dog off in the distance, calling out to anyone who would listen. We played fetch for a good long while,  him panting and wagging his tail and smiling. It had been a nearly perfect evening.

All that was missing was her.

Deep down, I knew it wouldn’t work. She wasn’t going anywhere, and neither was I. But when I tried to imagine life without her, it left me feeling empty. I felt a yearning. I felt what I had always hoped I would feel for my soon-to-be ex wife, but somehow never did.

It was nothing I was used to, but perhaps, something I had always wanted—needed.

I wanted a spoon. I wanted to feel like I wasn’t going it alone. I wanted to have someone’s back, who had mine. I wanted to cook together, eat together, shop together. I wanted to wake up to her.

Not to someone. Her. Every morning.

I wanted to know I was all she needed. I wanted to be that.

But deep down, I knew better.



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