A Story. In Parts. (I) in Open Diary 2001-2018 (Pre-Prosebox)

I’ve been dying to tell you a story for weeks now. It’s an unfolding story that (I hope) continues to lay itself before me like a brilliant, confusing, entertaining, baffling, horrible-yet-hilarious romance novel(la?).

I’m hoping that posting the goods here might make it more real, more solid, and more understandable to me. But perhaps I’m not supposed to understand yet. Perhaps I’m not supposed to ever understand at all. Maybe this is just a fantastic distraction from all of the pain and suffering I’m still trying to deal with.

Bear with me.

Several weeks ago I came home from work, late. I’d been running errands and getting the paws polished and random whatnot to try to make myself human again. I was still heavy in the blur of the breakup, and not in the right frame of mind to notice the minutia…or even the big, blaring things for that matter.

But I did notice something interesting in the parking lot as I parked my car and went to the trunk to gather the Target bags, bursting with kitty food and litter and snacks. I saw a rare sight in the middle of this nearly adults-only, inner-city, artsy-lofty community: a family guy with three little kiddos getting out of a big SUV and heading toward the building.

I’d never seen this family before, and I know (or at least recognize) most of the people who have kids, so I assumed this was a family coming to meet friends or relatives who lived in the building. Regardless, I just happened to notice Daddy: an insanely attractive man. I mean, YOWZA (and I never use that term)! And then I did something that surprised me a little. I looked for a ring. But I couldn’t see because his hands were full of writhing children.

So I did what any normal human being would do: I walked up the steps to the back door, unlocked it, waited for the adorable family to follow, and simply held the door open for the little gang. Hot Dad smiled and thanked me and I said (ready for this???)…

“Looks like you’ve got your hands full.”

DUHHHHHHHH!!!!

Whatever. I didn’t really care, and I didn’t think too much of the whole thing, because again, who would even LOOK at someone so down, so weary, so heartbroken…especially when distracted by three small children.

I went about my night. I’m sure I spent it either bawling into my pillow or text messaging with TMG or possibly cruising OD. I don’t know. It obviously wasn’t memorable.

And soon, that day simply faded away into black, black. horrible night…just like every other summer night in 2008.

(to be continued)