re: the muppets (part eight)
Here's the next installment of my lengthy tome. Please click here for Parts One through Seven.
It was a real adjustment to go days without talking to her on the phone or via email. She had no computer access in Iowa so we had to rely on snail mail and the occasional call from a very busy pay phone.
But every day I came home to a letter from her. She wrote me several times a day every day. Sometimes I received more than one letter a day. I couldn't keep up with her pace but I did my best to write often and send her care packages. So far, we were making good on our promise to communicate as much as we possibly could. We were both motivated by the same thought: All we have to do is make it through this summer and then we can start our life together for real and forever.
The program she was in was super intense. If she wasn't actually performing then she was doing stage management, box office, lighting or sets. By the end of that semester, she had extensive knowledge of all facets of theater production. Her letters excitedly described the weekly productions and her particular role. She was having fun but she missed me. She said she was tired of everyone there and wanted to run away to New York to be with me.
The letters continued at a frenzied pace for a few weeks... and then suddenly stopped coming every day. And those that did arrive, had a decidedly different tone. I wasn't sure if my insecurity was rearing its ugly head but it was hard not to feel like she was distancing herself.
After receiving a few too-business-like-for-my-taste notes in a row, I replied simply:
The next letter I received addressed my question about moving there.
I replied:
The letters slowed to a crawl. The phone stopped ringing. I was a nervous wreck but doing my best to exist on faith and past promises. It was a meager diet and I began wasting away.
In earlier correspondence, we had agreed on a date for me to arrive in Columbia. I decided to forgo the usual travel agent and bid on a flight through Priceline.com. When I received the email confirming my bid was accepted, I took a deep breath before making the non-refundable purchase. I thought to myself, "I hope I'm not making a mistake," closed my eyes, exhaled and clicked the purchase button. I printed out my itinerary and dropped a copy in the mail to her.
At this point, I hadn't heard from her in almost two weeks, maybe more. I shuffled through those days depressed and lonely. I had no one to confide in about my worries because I still hadn't told anyone that I had a girlfriend. I was in this all by my lonesome.
I woke up on a Saturday morning and as always, she was my first thought. I said quietly to myself, "I'm going to hear from her today."
It was a busy day. My parents left on a cruise to Nova Scotia. My two older sisters dropped them off at the Intrepid, the cruise's departing location, so I agreed to mind my three-month old niece for a few hours.
I was edgy and tense all morning. I half-watched a bit of Girl, Interrupted to pass the time while the niece napped in her bouncy seat. I paced around the house and nervously glanced out the window. And then I heard the noisy hinges on the mailbox and the thwang of the metal flag as the mailman forcefully raised it.
I waited until he was safely across the street and then fetched the mail. I quickly sifted through the envelopes while still standing on the front steps -- bill, bill, junk mail, bill, bill, subscription renewal, bill, her letter, bill, bill, loan application rejection notice, bill, charitable appeal, bill.
Just as I predicted, I heard from her that day -- July 15, 2000. I'm usually terrible with dates but that is one I will never forget.
I went back inside curious to read the letter but dreading it at the same time. I just knew it wouldn't be good news. My niece started to stir and let loose with an "I'm starving!" wail. I put the letter down on the kitchen counter, put on a pot of water to heat the bottle and picked up the niece to calm her down. I hugged her close and gently bounced her while walking around the living and dining rooms. She loved constant movement. Normally it was tiresome to keep her mobile but on that day I was grateful. Walking was the only way to still my trembling legs.
But my niece needed me, my sisters would soon be home and some of their friends were on their way over for a barbecue. I don't know how I did it but I pulled myself together enough to put the letter in my bedroom and then came back to the kitchen, prepared a bottle, fed my niece and then greeted and entertained guests until my sisters got home. I can't recall an ounce of any conversations I had with those people. I was on auto-pilot.
Before the house filled up, I had some quiet time with my niece. I love both my niece and my nephew equally but I will forever have an extra special bond with that little girl. She was the only person who was with me when I got the news on that fateful afternoon. The company couldn't have been more perfect. I needed someone in that moment who would love me unconditionally and not ask questions. Trying to explain to an adult would require too much backstory and explanation. I didn't want to talk. I just needed to be held. In a mere few sentences, I was completely leveled. I was in desperate need. So I clutched my niece and held onto her for dear life as that first paragraph played over and over in my head. I was beyond consolation but the presence of that baby helped me keep it together somehow. Her powdery formula scent provided the lone shred of comfort in that awful hour.
This is getting hard so I need to stop for now. I'm sorry for all the typos lately but the past two have been difficult to go back and reread.
>> Go to Part Nine
-- Part One
-- Part Two
-- Part Three
-- Part Four
-- Part Five
-- Part Six
-- Part Seven
~ Part Eight~
It was a real adjustment to go days without talking to her on the phone or via email. She had no computer access in Iowa so we had to rely on snail mail and the occasional call from a very busy pay phone.
But every day I came home to a letter from her. She wrote me several times a day every day. Sometimes I received more than one letter a day. I couldn't keep up with her pace but I did my best to write often and send her care packages. So far, we were making good on our promise to communicate as much as we possibly could. We were both motivated by the same thought: All we have to do is make it through this summer and then we can start our life together for real and forever.
The program she was in was super intense. If she wasn't actually performing then she was doing stage management, box office, lighting or sets. By the end of that semester, she had extensive knowledge of all facets of theater production. Her letters excitedly described the weekly productions and her particular role. She was having fun but she missed me. She said she was tired of everyone there and wanted to run away to New York to be with me.
The letters continued at a frenzied pace for a few weeks... and then suddenly stopped coming every day. And those that did arrive, had a decidedly different tone. I wasn't sure if my insecurity was rearing its ugly head but it was hard not to feel like she was distancing herself.
After receiving a few too-business-like-for-my-taste notes in a row, I replied simply:
Are you sure you want me to move out there? Before I turn my life upside down, I have to know if this is what you really want. I'm having trouble getting a loan right now because of my outstanding debt. Should I keep trying? I need you to be honest with me.Before I received an answer to that particular question, I received another letter. Among other things, it contained a cryptic message about her belief in signs and her need to be on the right path. She was a little crunchy at times so I made a half-assed mental note but didn't give it too much thought beyond that. In the same letter, she introduced me to someone I'll call Lowercase Ed.
There's a guy who works and he's really cool. He's a lighting designer but he works as a teacher here every summer and does set construction. His name is ed (he doesn't believe in capitalizing his name) and he's awesome. Curly, I want us to be friends with him.I'm not a jealous person by nature. And I wasn't jealous when I first learned of Lowercase Ed. I was scared though. Her previous letters described the beautiful summer nights, the starry skies and the moon's reflection on the lake. She had filled me in on the gossip and the rumors swirling about (chief among them that she was a lesbian with a girlfriend in New York), the breakups and makeups of her friends and classmates this summer and in summers past. Some of the drama even carried over from year to year. Many happy couples were created and destroyed in this strange summer place. I had to wonder if any of that was responsible for driving my girlfriend to such distraction.
Now I know what you're thinking and trust me, you have nothing to worry about. He's 29 and a teacher here and totally hung up on his ex-girlfriend! And besides, I'm madly in love with YOU, beautiful girl!
The next letter I received addressed my question about moving there.
I do want you to move here! More than anything else in the world. But, I'm scared you'll miss your family so much and grow to resent me.That's not the answer I needed or wanted. I was already in a state of mild panic but I was trying my best to hold it together and not doubt her. After all, we did a pinky promise not to let insecurity get the better of us. Faith and trust were key. Right?
I'm sorry you're having trouble getting a loan. But we have to have faith that we can get through this time apart. If it's meant to be, it's meant to be.
I replied:
Still no luck with the loan so I'm not sure I can make the move anyway. But just in case, why I don't book a trip to Columbia when you're back at school? If I'm moving out there, I can use that time to line up an apartment and a job. If I'm not moving, it's a nice long visit. Let me know what dates work for you.She called me a few days later. There was an almost impatient tone to her voice. It was like she was a rebellious teen calling her mother to do the obligatory check-in. I hated the way she sounded. What happened to my little Okie girl? Who was this stranger on the other end?
"You feel so far away right now," I said.I found her "whatever happens happens" attitude sickening but our late-night promise to trust in us and believe in us loomed. But the knot in my stomach grew. It felt like I swallowed a shot put.
"I'm here, just like I always am," she replied lazily.
"Did you get my note about me coming out there in August?"
"Yes and I think that's a great idea. I wrote you back with some suggested dates. How's it going with the loan?"
"So far, not so good. But I'm still working on it."
"If that's what's meant to be, it will work out."
"So did you hook up with any boys at DD's wedding?" she asked in reference to the ceremony I attended the week prior.I can't even adequately describe the tone she used. I had never heard anything like it. It was a little accusatory, slightly mocking and maybe just a tad hopeful that my answer would be yes. It infuriated me.
"Oh yeah, you know me... hooking up left and right and cheating on you like crazy. Just like I always do. Jesus, what a question!"Silence.
"So who's this Lowercase Ed fella?" I asked in a fake care-free tone.I had never heard her so impatient or defensive before. It was official. I was scared.
"God, I knew you were going to ask about him!" she snapped.
The letters slowed to a crawl. The phone stopped ringing. I was a nervous wreck but doing my best to exist on faith and past promises. It was a meager diet and I began wasting away.
In earlier correspondence, we had agreed on a date for me to arrive in Columbia. I decided to forgo the usual travel agent and bid on a flight through Priceline.com. When I received the email confirming my bid was accepted, I took a deep breath before making the non-refundable purchase. I thought to myself, "I hope I'm not making a mistake," closed my eyes, exhaled and clicked the purchase button. I printed out my itinerary and dropped a copy in the mail to her.
At this point, I hadn't heard from her in almost two weeks, maybe more. I shuffled through those days depressed and lonely. I had no one to confide in about my worries because I still hadn't told anyone that I had a girlfriend. I was in this all by my lonesome.
I woke up on a Saturday morning and as always, she was my first thought. I said quietly to myself, "I'm going to hear from her today."
It was a busy day. My parents left on a cruise to Nova Scotia. My two older sisters dropped them off at the Intrepid, the cruise's departing location, so I agreed to mind my three-month old niece for a few hours.
I was edgy and tense all morning. I half-watched a bit of Girl, Interrupted to pass the time while the niece napped in her bouncy seat. I paced around the house and nervously glanced out the window. And then I heard the noisy hinges on the mailbox and the thwang of the metal flag as the mailman forcefully raised it.
I waited until he was safely across the street and then fetched the mail. I quickly sifted through the envelopes while still standing on the front steps -- bill, bill, junk mail, bill, bill, subscription renewal, bill, her letter, bill, bill, loan application rejection notice, bill, charitable appeal, bill.
Just as I predicted, I heard from her that day -- July 15, 2000. I'm usually terrible with dates but that is one I will never forget.
I went back inside curious to read the letter but dreading it at the same time. I just knew it wouldn't be good news. My niece started to stir and let loose with an "I'm starving!" wail. I put the letter down on the kitchen counter, put on a pot of water to heat the bottle and picked up the niece to calm her down. I hugged her close and gently bounced her while walking around the living and dining rooms. She loved constant movement. Normally it was tiresome to keep her mobile but on that day I was grateful. Walking was the only way to still my trembling legs.
"What's going to happen to me today, huh, buddy? What's your aunt going to find out? Will I be sad?" I whispered in her ear.I secured the niece in her bouncy seat and went into the kitchen to test the bottle. It needed another minute so I looked over at the letter, uncertain if I should open it right then and there. I decided it was no use prolonging the bad news any longer so I picked it up and slowly tore open the envelope. The letter was really thick, maybe five or six pages of lined notebook paper, covered front and back. I inhaled and started to read. The words bounced before my eyes because of my violently shaking hands.
My darling,I couldn't read any more. All I wanted to do was collapse on the kitchen floor and sob uncontrollably.
I miss you so much. I have so much to tell you, beautiful girl. And I don't know where to start. Crazy things are happening to me. I know it's going to hurt you to hear them and it kills me because hurting you of all people is the last thing I ever wanted to do. But please listen to me and try to understand.
Lowercase Ed kissed me last night... and I let him. Curly, I don't understand it either. I know you must hate me right now but please hear me out. I love you terribly and what we have is like a dream but it's not right. It's like we're hiding from the world. It's not real. I'm a firm believer in signs, as I've told you, and all signs are pointing for me to follow this new path with Lowercase Ed...
But my niece needed me, my sisters would soon be home and some of their friends were on their way over for a barbecue. I don't know how I did it but I pulled myself together enough to put the letter in my bedroom and then came back to the kitchen, prepared a bottle, fed my niece and then greeted and entertained guests until my sisters got home. I can't recall an ounce of any conversations I had with those people. I was on auto-pilot.
Before the house filled up, I had some quiet time with my niece. I love both my niece and my nephew equally but I will forever have an extra special bond with that little girl. She was the only person who was with me when I got the news on that fateful afternoon. The company couldn't have been more perfect. I needed someone in that moment who would love me unconditionally and not ask questions. Trying to explain to an adult would require too much backstory and explanation. I didn't want to talk. I just needed to be held. In a mere few sentences, I was completely leveled. I was in desperate need. So I clutched my niece and held onto her for dear life as that first paragraph played over and over in my head. I was beyond consolation but the presence of that baby helped me keep it together somehow. Her powdery formula scent provided the lone shred of comfort in that awful hour.
This is getting hard so I need to stop for now. I'm sorry for all the typos lately but the past two have been difficult to go back and reread.
>> Go to Part Nine
-- Part One
-- Part Two
-- Part Three
-- Part Four
-- Part Five
-- Part Six
-- Part Seven
posted by curly mcdimple @ 4:03 PM :: permalink :: ::
