{"id":134,"date":"2018-08-13T23:06:07","date_gmt":"2018-08-13T23:06:07","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/blog.fightfayre.net\/?p=134"},"modified":"2018-08-13T23:06:07","modified_gmt":"2018-08-13T23:06:07","slug":"end-of-summer","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/blog.fightfayre.net\/?p=134","title":{"rendered":"End of Summer"},"content":{"rendered":"

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Ever since being let go, this has been the first summer vacation I’ve had since my early years of college. While applying to bigger companies in the NJ\/NY area, I let myself enjoy the empty days. I cook, I take walks, I binge on murder mysteries and horror films and I visit my sister often to spend time with her and her kids. Lately, I’ve also started meeting new people.<\/p>\n

Anyone who knows me well enough knows this: I am in an exclusive, long-term relationship. He is a little awkward and withdrawn, but so very tender and warm and loving. He is also a certified workaholic, which means we rarely see each other. It means we haven’t been on a date since last March for my birthday.<\/p>\n

What this also means is much of our communication happens through text or email. He is an IT manager by day and a studio musician and audio engineer by night. His nights are always booked until the early mornings, somewhere between 3 and 5 am. Weekends he commutes out of state for Sony, sometimes to Philly, Virginia, Boston, Delaware or Long Island. He doesn’t get enough sleep. He runs on packs of menthol cigarettes and hazelnut coffee.<\/p>\n

The last time I saw him was in July, a day before I flew out to Peru. I remember us lounging in bed, his hand in mine as he talked about the anticipation of seeing his dad later that month, for the first time in nine years. I remember asking him if anything was wrong because he was so quiet at first, and I glanced up to see his eyes were closed and a smile had spread across his face but he said there was nothing, that he was enjoying the moment of being with me. Maybe I should have stopped trying to count the minutes. I didn’t want to fill the space with too much talk even though there is so much about him I want to know. I grabbed my stuffed moray eel plush and brought its felt-toothed mouth to his cheek to kiss him. I was laughing. He asked if he could have a kiss from me instead.<\/p>\n

In the shower, he embraced me and kissed my shoulder and I lathered soapy water into his scalp.<\/p>\n

I don’t know how much longer a relationship can sustain itself like this, on so much absence and “wishing you were here.” I don’t know when or if his day job will pay him a livable wage, enough for him to cut his hours at Sony and allow him to devote time to other things. Things like friends, family, self. And me. I don’t know how any of this is going to change.<\/p>\n

My own friends are scattered throughout the country. We are lucky if we see each other once every six months. Loneliness used to make me do harmful things when I was younger, but now it makes me sit with and listen to it.<\/p>\n

Maybe that is one way I can learn to be gentle with myself these days. I listen for planes, for the cicadas buzzing up the morning. I touch the sleeves of my love’s hoodie that hangs from the canopy of my bed. Sometimes I slip my hands into the pockets. I balance a stray hair on my index finger, a piece from my rabbit who died two weeks after I came home from Japan. And I remember she was here with me, once. And my love was here, too.<\/p>\n

\"\"<\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Ever since being let go, this has been the first summer vacation I’ve had since my early years of college. While applying to bigger companies in the NJ\/NY area, I let myself enjoy the empty days. I cook, I take walks, I binge on murder mysteries and horror films and I visit my sister often <\/p>\n

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