Archive for January, 2011

Fifteen

Posted in Uncategorized on January 31, 2011 by aaronsummac

Fifteen days, now the phone rings. No hero is he, not that one can justify in saying, but it was good to hear him nonetheless. To know he’s not gone. That I was right not to go.

You think you can scare me, pretending he’s coming to you? I’ve got google translate, you stupid bitch. He’s coming home. He’ll be home tonight.

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Something in Nothing

Posted in Uncategorized on January 29, 2011 by aaronsummac

In faerie tales, when a man goes off in search of the minions of evil, that makes him a hero, doesn’t it? And the hero always comes home, triumphant if a little tired.

Every fiber of my being screams that it’s time to cut my loses and run; he’s gone the way of the girl and I’ve got to get moving. I have to leave this place. But at the same time, some strong, heavy part of me is shouting that he’ll come home any time, any moment, and I have to be here for him.

I managed to convince my superior that my absences are justifiable due to personal issues. There was even some sympathy, condolences and assurance that everthing will work out okay. Call him, talk to him, or just wait and go on like I don’t miss him. Because eventually he’ll realize the mistake of leaving and come back to me.

 But no one seems to believe me that I don’t know where Blake is.

Behind Locked Doors

Posted in Uncategorized with tags , , , , , , , , on January 26, 2011 by aaronsummac

Everything is going wrong. Dreaming again, waking with the dream on my mind. I’m worried people will start to notice. I’m worried Blake won’t come home.

I have to keep the door locked while he’s gone. Draw the drapes, lock the doors, keep the light off. If there is no light, then I don’t have to see what I’m sharing space with. If anything’s here, I don’t have to see it. I don’t want to see it.

Like the Water Dream, every thing about this makes me want to vomit. I heard a truck rumble past the apartment, and I think it’s thunder and I taste the water in my mouth. I can taste it, heavy and metallic and rank; I feel like I’m drowning in it even though rationally I know I’m awake, I’m in my home, I’m dry and safe.

God I hope he comes home soon.

‘Communication’ and Other Stupid Arguments

Posted in Uncategorized with tags , , , , , , on January 5, 2011 by aaronsummac

I very much doubt that a great number of people are reading this blog. To be honest, I hope they aren’t — the fewer people reading, the smaller the chance of one of my coworkers or my employers recognizing my writing style and me having an Embarrassing Conversation Involving Lies and Deception.

However, I took the time to read over the few conversations I have had with the few readers who do take the time to comment, and I have realized that  I am indeed behaving in a very unpleasant manner. Or rather, Blake shoved the fact in my face, and I was forced to accept that this is true. And so, readers, I apologize. I am not usually such a jerk. I am simply – and, I hope, understandably- under a lot of stress. Between trying to keep my job and my sanity – and I teach, which isn’t a job conducive to sanity, actually – I feel… stretched thin. So again, I apologize for being so terse.

On a similar vein: I have done my best to steer clear of  Tumblr for the last few days, and in particular, I am steering clear of Oohthethingsiveseen (I call her the Bitch, but evidently she calls herself Eve). However, Blake has been keeping track of her posts (hence the sudden knowledge of name) and that was the beginning of our latest rash of arguments. He thinks we should try meeting with her to talk. I disagree. Vehemently.

Blake and I are not usually an arguing couple. It doesn’t come to us naturally. So I will just say that I resent being put in a position where arguing seems to become the norm. However, some how the Bitch has gotten our phone number, and she was actually trying to call our home for a while. She even left messages on the answering machine, which would be posted on youtube, except I’m lazy and can’t figure out how.

She says He is coming back ‘around our way’. I know He is, and I don’t need to risk contusion to know more. In fact, I am almost positive that her only motivation for wanting us to meet up and ‘communicate’ with her is for her to have the opportunity to corner us and keep us tripped up – or knocked out – until He gets ‘around to us’.

 

I’ve lived this long without a true face-to-face with Him. I’m not letting her change that.