#departures
Peter and I will be apart this holiday. So instead of writing a story, I thought I’d interview him.
It’s 8:30 am, Wednesday morning 12.21.22 and we’re having coffee at the Atticus Bookstore Cafe in New Haven, CT. We’ll go our separate, holiday ways after our coffee. I’m going to New York City and Peter’s going to Malibu, California.
I have a few questions on my phone and I’m recording the interview.
Anais: “Ready?”
Peter: “Ready.”
Anais: “How are we alike?”
Peter: “Oh, we’re both planners who know what we want. You’ve got a blueprint of your future and I have my plans - you know, stacked carefully, like dinner plates - but they’ve been a little wobbly since I met you.” He smiles suavely.
Anais: “Nice. How are we different?”
Peter: “Oh, lots of ways. Biologically,” Peter begins, putting his hands over his ******* “my ***** might be bigger.”
Anais: “Ha, I don’t THINK so.” I snarled, but I couldn’t help chuckling. “Seriously!”
Peter: “Well, I think you have more emotions than I do.” I look at him quizzically,
“I’ll suddenly realize you’re crying and wonder if I did something wrong, or you’ll burst out laughing at nothing at all.”
Anais: “You make me sound like a NUT,” I said, “and I don’t cry that much,” I say defensively.
Peter: “No, not if we eliminate TV shows, movies, FaceTime calls or when you’re tired and overworked.”
Anais: “Maybe you’re just emotionally blocked,” I said, irritated.
Peter: “Maybe, but I do love it when you jump off the couch for an impromptu dance, like you can’t contain yourself anymore - and your silliness - I LOVE that.” He smiled, “When we’re studying quietly and you sneak up and jump on me, playing like you’re trying to pin me,” he chuckles.
Anais: “I AM trying to pin you,” I said.
Peter: laughs out loud
Peter shifts toward me.
Anais: “I see you moving in on me,” I said, pointing my pencil at him accusingly, “get back in your seat mister, I’m not THAT kind of interviewer.” I gasped, “What if I were poor, old, near-sighted Barabra Walters? She’d have never seen you coming. Would you have put the move on HER?”
Peter: “I like my women younger”
Me: “Barbara’s about 100 - 99% of the female population is younger - when did you get so picky?”
Peter: “I’ll have you know I’m VERY picky. Is this one of those hit-piece interviews? Do I need my lawyer?”
Me: “You got me off track.” I admit, checking my notes, “other differences?”
Peter: “Well, I’m kind of easy going, in general - lazy faire - but you, you watch everything - it must be exhausting.”
Anais: “I’m sentient,” I admit. “You let people walk all over you - like when they brought you a cold steak at the Plaza?”
Peter: “I didn’t want them taking it back and spitting on it.”
Anais: “If they did that, we’d own the Plaza - besides, that’s why we got you a new steak.”
Peter: “I’ll admit, you make me aware of things I hadn’t noticed, and when you complain, you’re usually right.”
Anais: “Thanks. Any other differences?”
Peter: “The obvious one, you’re a rich girl - we come from different worlds.” He said, touching his lips absentmindedly.” (I’ve been taking psychology classes - that might be a self-soothing gesture).
Anais: “Have you seen that new James Cameron, water-world movie? I come from there.”
Peter: “A world where parents buy their daughters six thousand-dollar prom dresses.”
Anais: “I bought that on SALE,” I said emphatically, “it regularly costs twelve (thousand).”
Peter: “Hazah! You like saving money.”
Anais: “And I didn’t get a FITTING,” I added defensively (because it was on sale).
Peter: “And - you’re a little Sinatra,” he said, wincing and wig-wagging his hand in a so-so way.
Anais: I gasp, “Well THAT’s good to KNOW,” I say, narrowing my eyes at him.
Peter: “I’m not calling you spoiled,” he shrugged, “you secretly paid your roommate's tuition,” he said soothingly, “THAT’s who you are - generous.”
Anais: “She was working two jobs - for peanuts,” I said softly.
After a quiet moment I began again.
Anais: “What about us?” I ask hesitantly.
Peter: “We’ve become a couple,” He said, smiling, “against all odds and I’ve become comfortable with us being a couple.” He pauses for thought. “Relationships have so many stipulations and rules, and everyone has opinions, but your smiles make me smile, and your sighs and even your yawns make life better.”
Anais: “Do you want a closing statement?”
Peter: “I’m supposed to become a physicist, now that I’ll have my doctoral degree.” He pauses again and puts his hand on my knee. “I’m not sure exactly what that’ll mean - for us - that remains to be seen, but my aunt has a saying, “The universe has so many tricks up its sleeve - love whatever happens.”
Dec 22, 2022
Dec 22, 2022 at 10:33 PM UTC
I always hate it when someone I count on gets promoted out of my everyday life. Nothing bathes one in neoteny like being left behind by someone off to college.
One morning they’re with you, the next, they’ve departed - dropping away, like Icarus, into those freer, more exciting, college seas. Callie did that - it wasn’t her fault, exactly, that she was two years older.
I’m a vampire for her tales of sordid doings and it was fun telling her my everything so she could laugh at my mistakes. I’ve really missed her coaching - between my every romantic play.
Sometimes I’d pause in my studies or practice - those seemingly slow motion choreographies that'll lead to MY future - to glance across our joined yards where I can see her window.
I’d hope to see a light - like she broke camp, escaped her quarantine and somehow made it home - like the moon stepping out from behind the clouds.
Jul 23, 2021
Jul 23, 2021 at 3:35 PM UTC
i hate layovers, the long stops
the nothingness of the in betweens
suffocating of boredom
surrounded by strangers
all anxiously waiting
there is a universal oneness here
regardless of race, religion or age
something which everyone endures
a temporary pause in time
where reflection is forced upon us
reminiscing of what we bid farewell to
and the hope, love, fear or excitement
awaiting us at our next stop
Jul 17, 2017
Jul 17, 2017 at 8:10 PM UTC
"Look into the camera,"
and bring your eyes nowhere else,
not behind to where the lady stands,
holding an eight-year-old's hand.
"Place your forefinger on the sensor,"
and don't dare move it closer
to your wet eyes, for the man
with the ten-year-old might see
you shudder.
The arrow always points forward,
so take your steps fast and sure.
Ignore the shouts, shove away the feels,
smile and wave your way to
DEPARTURE.
May 15, 2017
May 15, 2017 at 4:48 PM UTC
Salient pools swarmed upon
Seas
Of blackened
Amber,
Reflected
Neon gazes,
And
The love that could never be.
She knew it.
I knew it.
Hell, Even my luggage knew it.
All that remained were the footsteps
And in opposite directions.
Oct 21, 2016
Oct 21, 2016 at 9:42 PM UTC
Our sun-kissed smiles
From the summer time
Wave goodbye, wave away
The rest of the sunshine
We accept their departures
And trudge on, to arrive
On depression's doorstep
In this sweater weather
The rain pours down
The curtains are closed
The windows steam up
Either way
We pull up our covers
Pull closer our lovers
And make our own kisses
We can make our own smiles
Sep 5, 2015
Sep 5, 2015 at 4:50 PM UTC
Isn't it sad
How we
Can spend
A lot of
Time together
Yet know
Next to nothing
About
Each another.
This though,
Is not the time
To reminisce.
Earlier this
Morning you
Told me that
You were leaving.
It came in not
As bomb that
Levels cities,
No, it was more
Like a baseball
That broke through
The stained-glass windows
Of my heart.
This does
Not **** me,
But day in
And day out,
I am burdened
By the gaping
Hole in me.
I pick the
Shards of glass,
Stained with
Memories and
Mysteries.
I only ask
To know you more.
I try to put
The shards together
Enduring all
The cuts to my
Fingers.
Cuts of different
Sizes, some are
Deep and some
Are shallow
But all draw blood
The same.
I Persevere
through the pain
To rebuild
That perfect
Picture.
To see the
Mystery
Unravel before
Me.
To put together
The pieces of
Your identity.
Isn't it sad
How we
Can spend
A lot of
Time together
Yet know
Next to nothing
About
Each another.
I only ask
To know you more.
Someday perhaps,
I would see
your hands,
Whose scars
Would gladly
Open again,
And help me
Fix this broken
Memory.
Nov 11, 2014
Nov 11, 2014 at 8:28 AM UTC