monkeyrobot's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Russel Street Plaza After work, D. and I are hanging out in the parking lot, enjoying the sun, smoking cigarettes, and discussing girls. Girls we think about, girls we are thinking of kissing. Where we want things to go. There is the how far with me, and the how long for her. The desired emotional threshold, and what would be ideal & what we really expect from ourselves. We are longing in the parking lot. We are making plans in a parking lot. I talk about how easy it is to be hopeful. There are no insecurities in a fantasy, but she is not getting me. Not at all. Not even a little. It is going to rain; the clouds draw from the North. This afternoon it is going to rain hard. Across from us a couple gets out of a Jetta, and the woman walks over to him, and he adjusts his white hat. Yeah...he achieves the perfect duckbill, as she pulls her arms around his middle and hides her face his blue tee. When she begins to wail, it is muffled, but still widely audible. He wraps his arms around her, and looks over the parking lot. She rocks her head back and blubbers loudly. The sound turns and gnaws inside my chest. He pulls her away and holds her at arms length, and says something slowly and diligently. The girl is broken. He holds her at arms length, and she doesn't more toward him again. She shakes and sobs, her arms in his hands. The sound turns in my heart. She is gone. She is broken. Her wails turn in my heart. He looks around the parking lot. I look at D. and lift my finger slightly toward them, and say to her, "Don't forget, that is the other side of it." 22:15 - Friday, Sept. 21, 2001 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
||||||