minutiae
We sit on our respective sides of the bed, backs to one another, going through our nightly motions.
I let down my hair.
I undress.
I begin the application of the things - the lotion that smells like honeysuckle, the shea balm, the expensive hyaluronic face cream, the $25 lip mask - all things that promise to leave me hydrated, youthful, and dewey, so that I may pretend I’m not aging.
I take the handful of pills that remind me I am definitely aging, and faster than I would like.
I lay down with my book, and you lay down next to me. You do not turn on the machine that keeps you from suffocating in your sleep. You are in the mood to talk first.
So we talk.
We talk about your past, about your friends from that ‘cult’: Ruth at the Grammys with her partner - Kendrick album, apparently. Amanda is still a mess in the French Quarter. Wes won’t let the dream die. Stef is a far-right nut job. Drea tried to seduce you away and then disappeared after that last meeting on 6th St. Jon, my favorite, last seen heading to Colorado with forest-fire-Lindsey. Micah left to be a pastry chef in Osaka ten years ago and we haven’t heard from him since.
We talk about how different would life be if you’d taken up that music conservatory offer; if you’d had parents that built you up instead of dissuading you.
We talk about your present, and you speak in extensive detail about your job, knowing I only absorb the broad strokes. I cannot provide meaningful input, just idiotic jokes:
You are a bat with your sonar and geophones! What would we do without your ears?
You open up more about the dissolution of something you hold close, leaving you to feel like a child of divorce. Navigating this unchartered territory with the hope of mending severed bonds.
Together we weigh the potential impact of working on something new with M & Becks, plus the guy from that E6 band. How many musical projects does he need to be in? we wonder. Is it worth it to work with M again?
You turn on your machine and settle into sleep. I do not read. I think about our conversations, the day-in day-out minutiae.
Vacations. Bills. Dreams. Prescriptions. Sex. Yard Work. TV. Dinner. Etc. All of it.
Hopefully for another 20.
9:32 a.m. - 2023-08-18