Finishing and Longing

I just finished what I hope (but doubt) will be the final draft of “The Shattered Door”—the book I wrote last summer. Appropriately, I ended the process in tears. I was almost done when friend of Chad came into the coffee shop. He was very sweet and mentioned how good Chad and I are both looking. He and many others are going to San Diego for their Pride tomorrow (including Chad). We were supposed to go to San Diego this summer. I still have the paper, on the kitchen counter, in his handwriting listing all the flights and hotel options we had. I hope he has a great and safe time, but it is so hard knowing he is there and I am not. We’d even talked of moving there one day. I couldn’t tell if the friend realized that I started breaking down by the end of our conversation, but I would imagine he did. I rushed to the bathroom to complete the breaking down process when he turned to talk to another friend. Doesn’t make sense. Doesn’t feel right. I hate being powerless to change it, and unable to understand why he doesn’t love me or want our life together.

Cute moment for the day—

As I was leaving the gym this morning, I walked by this skinny little man doing triceps pull downs (I don’t know what those are actually called). For reference, I typically use 160 pounds or so. This little guy was using forty or fifty, and pulling with all his might. He had earphones on, so he wasn’t aware of how loud he was. He looks like Icabod Crane sans glasses. In a conversational tone, with his eyes squeezed shut, he breathed, “Come, Davey, you can do it. That’s it, Davey! One more. Come one, keep it up! That’s it, Davey!” He would grunt between each word. It was rather adorable. He was his own cheerleader and personal trainer. I couldn’t help but laugh out loud over his innocent struggle with his miniscule weight. I also couldn’t help but feel superior, not in a horrible way, but just enough to cause a little spring in my step.

A few minutes later, after receiving a strange once-over from the guy I refused to let wash my car at the filling station as I got gas, I noticed as I steeped up into the car that not only was my fly down, but gaping widely open. Thank goodness I wore underwear for once today!