Started the day off....kind of late. Not to worry. Ran back to my house and grabbed ficus
' painting, the one of the compass
, and fought the traffic down to Largo
. I pulled up in the familiar drive that I haven't set foot on since before the turn of the year. Stepped around the strange lattice
work and knocked on the carriage house
"Hey! Hold on a sec."
Door swings open, and there he is, in all his big Greekness.
"I knew you were coming. Elvis was on the TV."
"Are you trying to tell me Elvis makes you think of me?"
"Yeah, I guess I am. Just when we all think you're dead, you pop up again."
I take ficus to lunch, where I sip on Bacardi lemonades and feed him. I've been doing that alot lately....my chill-ren don't eat well enough.
And we talk, and we talk, and we talk. He, like Onya, might come to visit and see if the city's the place for him. My dreams of my own mafia really are becoming a reality. We have such a connection, we should have never tried to fuck that up by becoming involved. Some friends you should just NOT sleep with. I guess I gotta get better filters.
I'm getting flamboyant anf giggly by the end of lunch and I know I have to let him go so he can get to work and I can go ghost around my house for a bit.
I don't want to let go, as I'm on my tip-toes trying to get my arm around his freckled neck. I don't want to exchange emails, though he knows mine by heart. I don't want to admit that this is goodbye.....for now. He hops in the Mazda saying, "I love ya, ya goddamn gypsy." I hop in Squirt and head for Dunedin. I see Griffin driving in Lilith passing me on Alt-19 waving and honking. There'll be time enough for him later.
In the house, I'm drunk on booze and thought, with my cat in my lap as I call the East Coast, Maryland, and Arizona. I call everyone and both of the mothers. Only two people are unreachable. Okay, three, Kash and I are still playing tag. Satyr misses his roommate, Cammie's doing her taxes, Mom's freakin' that it's been at least two weeks since we've talked. Okay, four, Bear's out on the town already. Eric wants his meds altered, Deb's freakin' about the job, Onya's outta commision 'til tomorrow, Thor offers his scarab design for tomorrow. Griffin calls over and over in between my calls. Like I said, he'll get his time later.
I spin around and around in the living room, it's my own private studio. Put on some Perfect Circle, dig out my old Stabbing Westward, throw some PJ Harvey into the mix. Smoke, smoke, smoke, think.
Show up at Griffin's about an hour and a half later than I'd said. Oh well. The pizza's cold, the beer is warm. Stretch out to cuddle, one green eye opens to fix on me over a beaked nose and under round glasses. "Where ya been?"
Hang out for a while. I know he's tired. We've been up and running since I got back. It's Friday night and he's got money and he doesn't want to go out. He must really be tired and it's not just a put on. I creep out as Jen crawls in, with a kiss on his forehead and a whisper about tomorrow.
Pop the gears back into third as I jet by the waterway. Goddess, it's fuckin' beautiful. But I think it's beautiful wherever I am. I'm sickly optimistic like that. Mountains, concrete, ocean, desert.... So I settle back to secure a few more memories and dreams into boxes, and tell my cat he'd better go catch himself another squirrel. For both of us, because we don't have much time left.