Part of my weekly routine is to drive to Alameda on Tuesdays and share my life with Paul. I’ve been seeing him now for going on ten years. Quite frankly, I’ve lost count of how many years we’ve been doing this. I’ll show up at 11am and talk about how my children are doing and then sometimes it’s about me being sodomized by older men as a child/teenager. At exactly 11:45am, I’ll look at the clock and say, “How about eleven next Tuesday?” He’ll reply, “If it works for you then great.” I’ll get up and head to work and think to myself, “I guess you are destined to be like this till the end.”
In a song by Harry Chapin, there’s a great verse, “It’s better sometimes when we don’t get to touch our dreams.” That one lyric sticks in my mind everyday lately. The truth will finally come out and all I can say it is what it is. The only reason I had ever contacted Paul was because of J. In 1997, we had gotten together for a few days and I simply couldn’t let it go, foolish me. The truth is, J. had moved on with her life and it really doesn’t matter anymore. The final two encounters turned out to be interesting to say the least, for she was also fighting her own demons and needed a safe corner between fight rounds.
A few months ago and for 54 days, I tried to help her get her to a safe place and a year prior to that, I did the same thing. When it was all said and done, she went back into the ring because it felt familiar. I don’t wish her bad and it is what it is. Looking back, we only communicated when she wanted to, otherwise it was dead silence. I don’t hold it against her, sometimes a drowning woman will grab at the blade of a sword to save herself. I’ve run out of things to say about J. to Paul and he kinda knows it. Paul says she only liked the echo I gave her. I didn’t want to believe it but just maybe my ego didn’t want to let me believe it. This too will pass.