magicbeans. nothing if not awkward.

i haven't posted anything since the third. i was writing about how we were all feeling depressed. as it turns out, i had no idea how bad it really was.

last friday stef and i packed some clothes, some snacks, flora, and ourselves into the car and headed out on the three day road trip for home. we spent friday night in memphis, in the same motel we stayed in on the way down. we went out to dinner at the same restaurant we ate at on that trip. but when we went to bed, she curled up on her side and pulled the sheets in around her. in the middle of the night i woke up as she pulled my head into her shoulder and skritched my hair. she turned to me, kissed me, and skritched my hair again. i fell back to sleep.

saturday we continued on to my dad and annette's in ohio. we made dinner and watched seabiscuit. she sat on a chair, eight feet from me, and i wanted to say to her 'aren't you supposed to sit next to me during movies?'. i didn't because this is something i said to lindsey in rome, when stef and i weren't really talking. at night she again curled up on her side of the bed.

during the drive on sunday we didn't say much. she slept some. worked on a crossword puzzle. when it got dark she put the puzzle away. 'are you alright?' i asked.

'not really. i don't want to talk about it now. you'll just get upset.' i was just about to call daniel and jeanette to see about spending the night at their house. 'stay wherever you want to stay,' stef said, 'i'm just going to drop you off and then go home to my mom's.'

'what? why?'

'i don't want to be with you anymore.'

'you mean like break up with me?'

'yes.'

i was shocked. i'm still shocked. i had no idea that she was feeling this way.

we were just outside of danbury. through kent i tried to talk her out of what she had just said. as we drove through town i rang george. 'are you still in your shop?' he was. i turned around. i didn't want to get out the car though. to have stef just drive out of my life.

'what do you want to do about flora?' she asked.

'take her with you. i can't make any decisions now.' i said goodbye to flora, 'you be good. i don't know when i'll see you again.'

sunday night was miserable. it was the summer before last all over again. later, when i got home she IMed me:

s: r u ok?

b: not really.

s: im sorry

i told her about what happened in the middle of the night in memphis.

s: I remember slightly waking up while I was doing that and wondering what I was doing

s: im sorry

monday morning i woke up expecting flora to jump up on my legs. to meow in my face. when i could find something to keep my mind occupied for half an hour or so i was okay. but as soon as i finished whatever it was i had no idea of what to do with myself. i paced. i cried a little. i gritted my teeth.

george and i went out for dinner. i wasn't able to eat much. i felt sick afterwards.

tuesday morning i woke up missing her a lot. i had dreamt about her no less than three times. the first was on a school bus. i was sitting in the seat in front of her. we were talking. we were the only two people on the bus until a boy got on and sat down next to her. he obviously had a thing for her. but when i told him that we were together he left. i moved next to her and we started making out, eventually falling into the isle just as more people got on the bus.

in the second dream we were in a class together. it was one of those anxiety dreams where i had been in the class all semester but had no idea what i was really studying or what any of the assignments were. we were supposed to have had prepared some sound or poetry piece that had something to do with space. i had no idea, but stef had gathered some architectural models of mine from a previous semester. i still was far from having finished the assignment, but it looked like i had done something.

in the third dream i came home to our apartment (more like a house, really) around 5pm. it didn't seem like she was home so i figured she must have had to go to work at 430. she was actually taking a nap in the bedroom. something that i did startled her awake, and she in return startled me. 'what time is is?' she asked. 'just after five,' i said, 'when do you have to be at work?'. 'not until six-thirty.' she decided to take a shower before work.

i woke up half expecting to find myself in that house. to find her in the shower.

i spent most of tuesday putting a christmas present for her together. when i was in rome i sent her a small, hand-made book with the text of a poem by michelangelo. he had found the words that i was looking for five hundred years before i was around to need them. they were the words i was looking for again. and although i was sure i must have typed them up on my computer or my website somewhere, i couldn't find them. i searched online through sites featuring michelangelo's poetry to no avail. eventually i decided i had to try searching through italian language sites, and it was hit and miss, but eventually a came across a complete works (?), and made my way through the poems one at a time. and fifty-five poems later:

  I' t'ho comprato, ancor che molto caro,
un po' di non so che, che sa di buono,
perc'a l'odor la strada spesso imparo.
  Ovunche tu ti sia, dovunch'i' sono,
senz'alcun dubbio ne son certo e chiaro.
  Se da me ti nascondi, i' tel perdono:
portandol dove vai sempre con teco,
ti troverrei, quand'io fussi ben cieco.

it is ostensibly a note, sent with a bottle of perfume. 'if you hide from me, i forgive you,' it says. 'wear this, and i will find you, even if i were blind.' from italy, i sent it with a small polished stone. i was still afraid of perfumes then. i knew that stef wore them, and some didn't bother my sinuses too much, but most did. over this past year stef asked me to go through her perfumes and find the ones i liked the best. those are the perfumes that she's primarily worn since then. the experience also prepared me to go perfume shopping, so that this time, two years later, i could send the same poem as it was originally intended.

i thought to send channel's coco mademoiselle, probably my own favourite of her perfumes, and one i know she wears. but, she already has at least one bottle of it. i walked main street in great barrington, eventually stopping in a small cosmetics boutique that sells miller harris perfumes. i sampled the different options, and while there was one that immediately appealed to me, i wasn't sure if any were quite right. i walked some more. stopped for a cup of coffee and a bagel. and found there was still a scent intriguing my nostrils. so went back, smelled each once or twice more, and settled on my first impulse, the fleur oriental.

shopping for a gift for her, wrapping it, packing it, and sending it off overnight to her was a very grounding experience. i felt as if she was with me, in a way, and i hope she feels the same in receiving it.

today, christmas eve, has felt empty in that way that sundays often feel empty to me. or, it feels that way to me now, late in the evening. earlier today i was bemoaning 'the worst chrismukkah ever'. (yes, that's a reference from 'the oc'.) there's no christmas spirit going around at all. no tree. no one really wanted to give gifts. and i have to admit i'm not really in the mood, but a big christmas to-do might have cheered my spirits some. as it is, i couldn't abide by a gift-less christmas and went out to buy some calendars and little toy-like things. there's still no tree. either sam will show up with a scraggly free tree later tonight or my mom is going to bring the small, artificial one up from her frameshop. depressing either way.

i'm just trying not to think too much. and i'm still planning on stef changing her mind. on us returning to austin together.

---

[ email, posted in retrospect, early january. (parts one and two appear on the 22nd.) ]

Date: wed, 615p
From: bean
To: stef
Subject: three

you have a number of really valid reasons to be upset with me. and i probably did need something very harsh and shocking to kick me in the ass and get me on the path towards doing something. i don't think it needed to be quite this harsh and shocking. i'm half waiting for you to say: "sorry i had to do that to you. i didn't really mean it. i just had to get you off the couch, and i didn't know how else to do it, gentle prodding wasn't working." and i'm not making any claims to having been 'rehabilitated' by three days of missing you like crazy. it's a long road that i have to take to overcome some of my issues. but, as the buddhists say: every path starts with a single footstep. stepping back myself and looking at where things were, i still can't see them nearly as bad as they apparently where, but i can see how insensitive and self-centered a lot of my actions and decisions were. how could i have spent all that time at home and never cleaned up? never really done any dishes? and been so half-assed about getting out and finding a job. and i know that i can't promise to you that i will totally change who i am and do better by you, but i can promise to be more mindful. it's a process, but it begins with a single step. and another and another. all this is predicated on the fact, of course, that i don't think it's in either of out best interests to break up. i wish i could recite you "bench poem" to you, because it encapsulates things so well from my perspective, in your own words. we've been down such a rocky road together. and i'm sure that there's always going to be rocks and missteps (that's just part of life). moving to texas and a lot of the baggage that came with it caused quite a big stumble in our path. but we really are good together. and i know that we can regain our footing, take eachother's hand, and continue on. yesterday i applied online for a job with the austin public library. i feel like it's something that you suggested a do a long time ago. without a kick in the ass, i wasn't really ready to hear you. i'm sorry. i've never really had a real job. lakeville internet hardly counts. it was just a bunch of kids playing office. even daniel and james (my age at the time) were just kids. working for my mom doesn't count. summer jobs don't count. work study doesn't count. i'm scared to death of "real life", but i know that you need for me to get over it. i've always known that, but i've always still procrastinated. once we were part way into the summer, there was no point because we were leaving providence in september. once we got to austin i didn't have my latest architecture projects for my portfolio, or i have work that i needed to do for daniel. then we were leaving for christmas, so it was january. i'm so sorry that i dragged you through all that. you are so right to be upset with me. i don't know why i have so little motivation. i've mused on it before, on my website, in conversation, and elsewhere. it's a chemical imbalance. it's add. or maybe it's just laziness. maybe i would benefit from medication. counseling. maybe i just need to hit rock bottom, and maybe you telling me that you don't want to be with me anymore is a taste of what that would feel like. but it wasn't out of emptiness and misery that i applied for that job online yesterday (and have been hunting down other jobs: i downloaded half price books's application, looked at other city jobs, etc). it wasn't out of emptiness and misery, but out of the sense of calm that came from spending the day thinking about, searching for, buying, wrapping, and sending your christmas present. you were with me while i was doing that. i was grounded. you've told me in better times that i keep you centered too.