The silence is like thunder

Last night, I couldn’t figure out what I wanted for dinner until I realized … I wanted a salad. I went to the store and bought a bunch of fixings for a salad but it wasn’t nearly as good as the salads that A. makes.

While at the store I talked with one of my little brothers and he was asking questions about why there’s two political parties, and what I thought about stem-cell research, and questions about the ways computers might think like humans someday. That was pretty cool.

I started to talk to him about why meat isn’t necessarily as good for him as he might think. When he talked about doing experiments on animals to use animal brains to create machines that could sense things, I talked about why animal testing might not be such a good thing either.

Talking to my mother, she was concerned that I wouldn’t have my necessary stuff since I packed up in a hurry, but I was able to say that I had my important things with me. I started to tell her about the strategy of storing things I wasn’t using first which A. and I figured out when we moved to university place together.

Last night the silence here was like thunder. I started to have what I assume is a panic attack. I got pale, was sweating profusely, shaking and couldn’t concentrate. Every time I would turn a corner or come downstairs, I half expected to see A. there, smiling at me. I had to sleep with the radio on all night, and even then I was only able to sleep for a couple hours.

I woke up in the early morning before the sun was up. I did the upper back stuff that I was supposed to have been doing. I washed my face, brushed my teeth. Then, I did what I could remember from the morning yoga workout. I then moved the load of stuff I’d left in the garage to the place that it needed to be.

After a shower, I sat in the living room looking out at the beautiful misty hilltops as the sun came out. I remember wonderful morning waking to that view with A. in my arms. I also remember a morning on that very couch, another point in time, when I thought there was no chance I’d ever be with her, when we had stayed up all night talking. We agreed to be friends, but couldn’t help but keep our feet cuddling together.

I wish I could have another morning with her, another morning with her in my arms, another morning of her love and her smile.

As I was sitting on the couch and J. was getting ready for work, I heard him whisper to my mom, “He really is down, isn’t he?”

I spoke with her brother this morning on the phone. We may hang out and hike a bit down here this weekend, or maybe I’ll go up there for a night. He mentioned going to Titlow park, but that’s just a bad idea, I’m afraid. I feel like I shouldn’t be there without permission since it’s so close.

I asked him, “I’m not really a religious man, but maybe you could keep A. and I in your prayers.” He understood. He’s a great friend.

There’s auditions tonight and tomorrow for “The Two Gentlemen of Verona” at LCCC. I called Joey and mentioned that I was semi-permanently in town, and was thinking of going even though I didn’t have an audition piece. Hopefully he’ll give a call back today. I’d like to talk to him. There’s got to be a way to get over how things have been and have at least some kind of friendship even though we don’t share much anymore.