I met D on a farm. I was introduced by a friend who thought I might be able to get some marijuana. We ended up spending time in a hamock the three of us. D and I ended up kissing. Our friend fell in a pond on the way back from the hammock. Over her head. I had to reach in and pull her out. We quickly ended up involved. I thought when I kissed her she was maybe 37 or 38 not much older than the previous woman I was involved with was. But she ended up telling me she was 48. She was a blonde. We went for a walk the day after the night we spent together. We walked off into the forrest and ended up walking and talking until we hit the highway of another town. She told me she was worth three million in the bank. It didn’t mean much to me the money. She convinced me to move to the city with her. We hired a van and rode the three hours to the city. I don’t think I said a word the entire way. As soon as we hit her apartment I walked in and there was a bar on her counter. I poured myself a drink. We laid in bed and she read me her favorite childhood book. I should have begun to fall in love but there was a relationship from my youth that left me a little cold inside.
There was a night in the city when we went to a bar and watched a concert, drank and danced. We missed the train, it stopped at 2 am. So we walked the whole way home to her building. No one on the streets. I switched shoes with her because they were hurting her feet. That was a romantic night. We talked the whole way home. I began to drink. At night I’d sit and listen to music with my whiskey and watch prisoners play basketball in the jail across the street. She had a heck of a book collection. I admired that. Now I am going on to amass one myself. I read one…a book about Soviet gulags mostly in the bathroom. We liked to cook together. Put some music on and cook dinner. We lived together for five or six months. In the morning we read the New York Times, a mutual interest of ours. We watched tv at night in bed. I was starting to fall in love. We went house shopping on the coast. I think she cried in front of the realtor and I went on about The Children of the Revolution, simply a song but what I thought of as a group from my past. I should have fallen in love. We both desperately wanted to fall head over heals in love. I guess I did fall in love with her though.
We took a vacation up north. More of a trip really. I remember drinking wine and watching The Man With the Golden Arm, an old black and white movie on tv at night. We stayed at this old motel and in the pouring rain had a cab driver pick us up bottles at the liqour store. We stayed in hotels here and there. We drank in bars. I had gotten quiet and I know she was trying to understand me. There were crying fits. She was bi-polar. I had told her I had depression and anxiety but didn’t tell her about my schizoaffective diagnosis. There was this ship that we stopped to look at and when we were there a car drove up and as I was walking back to the car the guy turned and said “I know you” and there was some wierdness about the port authority. When I was young we somehow ended up on a freighter. I think this was the port authority guy. Well anyway, I got quiet and she became unstable. I would wake up to her standing over me and staring at me. Not a good way to start the day. She eventually kicked me out one morning with two paper bags of my stuff. I hit the liqour store and drank liqour in my coffee and watched the ferrys come and go. I took a bus back to my home town. I wish things had ended differently. Ihad earlier introduced her to my parents she bought them a bottle of wine and we went out for chinese food. She talked to them about her deceased fathers life.
I don’t know what to think here. She ended up dying somehow several years ago. I missed the funeral. I wished I’d have known about it. I really do. We lost touch. That will always be left unfinished. What we could talk about these days. We could reconcile. Really sucks. Very sad. Sorry for such a long post.
In memory of D.