Drifting thoughts of a snowflake

Wednesday, August 04, 2004

The Single Seahorse

It’s not that I mind where I am; I’d just rather be in his bed. This is my first thought every morning. I roll over, wonder what he’s dreaming about hundreds of miles away, and then hop into the shower.

I get to work and instantly check my email for any glimpse of him. Maybe there will be a note telling me he misses me. Maybe there will be one telling me how he misses my sexy ways.

A couple of hours later I get an email to call him. I call and talk to him while he emails someone else. I can tell he’s just letting the sound of my voice swirl in his head, and he takes nothing in. I get off the phone, agitated. I wonder if ADD lasts a whole lifetime. He emails me a sweet note, and again I’m floating.

It was hot one day when I told him I wish we were seahorses. Tied up to one another, or strung around algae, just floating listlessly in a pool of cold dark water. Swaying back and forth with the current, intertwined to keep our stability.

And yet, here we are. Separate to keep our stability. We have no ties to one another, except for our emotions. Our lives continue to be happy without the other one there. We call and talk about the things we use to do. Then we talk about what we want to do next and hang up. We have our own agendas. I have work and he has school. I have my nephews and he has his waves.

But as always, night falls. I lie in bed and wonder where he is, and if he’s happy. I know he is, because I know I am. I hope I dream of seahorses.

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