Tuesday, December 14, 2010

letting down.

there are three loads of laundry waiting to be folded on my bed, a floor to vacuum, that book i've been reading, the friend i owe a beer, the biscuits i wanted to make from scratch. i wasn't going to write this evening. i sat down here at my desk, for what was supposed to be a quick second to see if that email i'm waiting for was there, and then i remembered how that mirror in the bathroom at work today seemed to multiply my grey hairs before my eyes, and now here i am.

the email, it wasn't there. there was another email. from one of my oldest friends back home. the white to my black. the girl whose laugh will tickle you, just like a cat's tongue. in high school she had the delivery guy cut her pizza in half and bring the other half to me. i kept the box for years. in her email this evening, what i noticed most was, there were no erroneous capital letters. she always does that, usually the first letter or two, because she forgot to let go of the caps lock. she was upset that i won't be home for xmas. i have to work. i'll be here. i've spent xmas here before, the first year i moved. the worst part about it was the $20 i regretted spending on breakfast. this year, i thought about getting a hotel in oxford for xmas eve. i've never been there. but who would watch my dogs. and when the day arrived, i probably wouldn't feel like driving anyway. so maybe i'll just stay here and bake and watch movies. the strangest part is, my friend and my mom both said the very same thing when i told them the news: but you are our gift. it's not the same without you. we love seeing you.

this evening a little dog ran up to my car. she was the color of "bit 'o honey" candy...they're one of my dad's favorites. her ears stood straight up and her eyes inquisitive, like a small child's in the house of a stranger. i squatted down, and she licked my hand, then darted off. we played that game for a while. i tried to grab hold of her collar but she got away, ran into the road, nearly clipped by a sedan, and then again by another sedan. my stomach knotted up both times. come here, come on, pretty girl. i tried and tried, but she wouldn't come closer again. i watched her zigzag from one side of the street to the other as she made her way up the block. i should've followed her. i went into my house instead.

a day. that's all it was.

4 comments:

  1. These are the bittersweet kind of days. The kind where you see how much you are loved, and get to show your love.... yet it always fades away to reality. Sorry you don't get to come home for Christmas.... I wish for you someday to make mad money with your writing schools so you can ride in with your puppies whenever you feel like it.
    Every try skyping? No its not as good as being home.. but it can be a close second..

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  2. bit o honey was my grandfather's favorite. good memories.
    I'm sorry you miss your friends and family. If there is anything I can do that will help you miss them a little less or at least forget how much, I'm here for ya! :)
    We can get together sometime and have a cookie-making, bread-and-biscuit-baking day!

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  3. i do miss them, but being the one who's missed is worse for me, if that makes any sense. a baking day would be fun...and hot cider w rum, too!

    when i make that money, michelle, i'm gonna donate to your dog rescue in morgantown... :)

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  4. Yes, being missed is awful. I'm not missed nearly as much as I'm the one doing the missing. I had to go pick up my niece a couple decembers ago, and less than 24 hours after arriving, we had to pack up and leave. A storm was coming, and it would have trapped us in Wisconsin for an unknown length of time. I felt awful having to just turn around and come back! The drive up there was a nightmare with bad weather and a frozen windshield with NO visibility and a trillion stops to fix the terrifying problem. My sister was having a particularly rough year and turned into a whiney six-year-old and begged me not to leave her. "Please don't leave meeeeeeee" haunted my drive back to Memphis. She's not normally expressive with feelings, so leaving her that day was one of my greatest heartbreaks. So, yeah, I guess I understand a little bit. Just a little bit. haha. There have been years where my parents neglected to call me on a holiday because they figured I'd be busy!! Jeez!

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