Happy because home is not just a place, but the people and sad, because I am absolutely right about everything I'd said. It will be a few days before this sinks in, I think and all will depend on what he does. It's past noon by the time he leaves, off once more to yet another Serbian party, he kisses me with familiar affection like we'll be doing this over and over again. Certainly it has that feel to it, but I know this will be the last time. Somehow.
I wasn't frightened thinking of it. I was more afraid of what it said about what I believed for myself. I would officially be giving up. A novice accepted to the order would cut her hair, vow chastity and supplicate. I would grown mine, have sex and marry someone I didn't love.
After the Sewer, after B. This time, maybe caring or being in something committed would do some good, count for something than being the past time of a psychopathic sex addict (the Sewer) or be subject to the blind indecisiveness of youth (B). Never mind my actual previous marriage, where even Therapots who sat patiently through the whole story, offered me kudos for saintly forbearance and marveled at my sanity. "No," I tell Carmen San Diego,"like it or not, I guess I'm just not blessed that way." I can almost hear her pursing her deep red lips and raising a glossy mink eyebrow, quietly unconvinced.
The next few days are busy, I get a text from Dragan asking me how I am but he stops short of suggesting we meet. There's some banter about astrology which he pooh poohs and that's it. Yep, it's definitely sinking in. By Friday early evening, he sends me yet another text to check on me again. Shy but unwilling to give up perhaps? Uncertain but interested? I decide to test the waters and ask if he'd like to check out a live band the next day. He asks me briefly about them but does not respond to my reply. There it is, I think, the decline. It won't be long before the end is nigh. Fate however, had other plans as to precisely how long.
I get home to do some writing, and finally notice a guest account still logged in. I'd ignored it before, barely having had time to do more than just pay bills and try to blog a post or two. I access it and voila, Dragan had left his account on it. I stare at it in bemusement, here we go, I thought. Truth Express, so hot off the presses it's steaming. Under normal circumstances, if this were a friend or someone I knew well enough to trust, I'd simply shut it down. Secrets are hard enough to bear, the truth with no obligation for safekeeping, still required handling. The natural next question to facing the truth about something is, What Now?
I laugh so hard, tears are coming out of my eyes. And it's not even 8PM. He was texting me at half past 6pm, where did he take the woman to dinner? The Denny's senior special? As I review the photos clinically, I realize something else. Whoever this woman was, she did the absolute right thing.
She took a picture, Goddess knows it sure as shit would last longer.