Tag: relationships

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personal

I was incandescent

Belonging to someone

My brother, and another friend, once remarked that a lotta the people we’ve casually dated are still friendly with us and I asked him why he thought that was.

Him: (shrugging) We’re useful.

As always, he’s right. He and I have alla these explicit skills (lawyer/doctor) plus rando skills that are useful.

Plus, we both like helping people.

On that note, another woman from my past reached out to me for my legal opinion on something.

Gotta say, it was one of the more interesting legal scenarios I’ve come across…

Me: Whoa! That’s…insane.
Her: I was incandescent.
Me: I have to write that down.

…and I gave her my opinion…

Me: You do know why they did this, don’t you?
Her: Why?
Me: Because they thought they could get away with it. Don’t let them.
Her: But, what’s the upside for me?
Me: Cash money, yo. Plus, you’re stopping them.

…and that was that.

We then caught up because it’s been a while since we chatted.

She’s on the dating apps but she also gets so many inquiries that she ends up just not opening the app because they give her stress.

Me: Man, women’s and men’s dating problems are so different.
Her: I think I’m just going to stop altogether.
Me: (shrugging) I dunno, you might meet a gem like me.
Her: (incredulous) I have so many thoughts, I don’t know which one to go for. I need a drink.
Me: I can get behind that. Let’s do it.

We ended up chatting for a while.

Her: What about you?
Me: (laughing) Well, I just recently went on a date and called her by an ex’s name, so, yeah, it’s going great. What about you?
Her: I have over 1,000 messages on one app. It just stresses me out.
Me: You need a dating manager to handle alla that for you.

Somehow, we got onto the topic of the two of us, which was uncomfortable because there were so many layers to it.

And, she actually said to me what Alison said to me on our first date.

Her: (sighing) Oh, Logan. You’re so dumb.

Ended up cutting off the conversation early because of that and for other personal reasons that are unimportant here.

But she wrote me afterward to tell me that all was ok, which I appreciated.

Relationships are hard, even when they’re great. Add on things like trauma and such and it’s just a mess.

I wish I was her person. I wish I was a lotta people’s…person. But, I suppose I’m still looking for something I can’t put into words.

It drove Caligirl nuts when I used to say that to her; she thought I was making it up. But it’s always been true for me.

Still, it’s a bit different now. See, I used to belong to someone.

And then I thought maybe I belonged to someone else, but – it turned out – she didn’t belong to me.

And I miss belonging to someone that belongs to me.

I’m a guard without enough people I love to guard. And one that failed his last charge.

Location: the basement of my brain again
Mood: searching
Music: save me from my brain (Spotify)
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Only one me

Getting it right

Years ago, I had a young blonde in my apartment and we ordered some food. We’re actually still FB friends, which I find sweet, but that’s neither here nor there.

In any case, I gave her the only bowl and utensils I had and I used the plastic stuff the food came with.

Her: Wait, you only have one bowl?
Me: (shrugging) I only have one me.

It was because my ex took everything else and I hadn’t yet gotten around to replacing it all yet.

Fast forward some 14 years later and I’m watching Hawkeye with someone else and we get to this scene:

Me: I said almost that exact same thing years ago!
Her: Really? No…
Me: It’s true. And I have receipts. But, I’ll show them to you some other time.

In some ways, that’s why it’s so odd for me to be a single father – I always either had someone in my life as a romantic partner or I was completely alone.

I never, ever – in a million years – imagined I’d be raising a kid all by my lonesome. It’s that whole imposter syndrome thing.

I’ve had some jaw-dropping success in my life as well as some truly shocking failures.

I hope – more than anything – that I get this one thing right, and it’s part of the former.

Editors note: In that entry above (and here), I’d just come back from Baltimore and my ex, whom I lived with, moved out while I was away and took everything – the bed, the utensils, all the plates and cups…AND the shower curtain.

I still remember sitting in my completely empty apartment and wondering if this was the lowest point of my life.

God, I was so young and dumb back then. I had no idea how much more down life could go.

She left me the couch, the TV, the microwave, a spatula, one cup, one plate, and a handful of random takeout items.

Took a video of it and posted it on a site that long since disappeared – and so did all my videos.

Shame, it was a hilarious video. That whole moment, in hindsight, was hilarious.

I had no idea how much more down life could go before rock-bottom.

Man, still can’t believe she didn’t leave me the shower curtain…

I get a lotta flak for this blog and I often toy with the idea of just stopping. That’s part of why I took a week off not that long ago.

On the one hand, I do wonder who, if anyone, read this. But then something like that Hawkeye scene happens and I’m glad I have it.

Or someone writes me something heartfelt and sweet, like Suz did recently, or someone from my gym class surprises me and tells me that she’s a reader.

Her: Logan, your last blog entry was so good. I thought I was going to cry.
Me: Wait, you read my blog?
Her: (shrugging) Yeah. You write so well.
Me: Oh man, thanks. I was just thinking about stopping…
Her: Don’t. It’s honest. It’s so honest. People like the honesty.

So, I continue to put things out into the aether, and hope that someone gets something from it besides just me.

Location: yesterday, downtown, telling a pretty girl to aim for my head
Mood: so busy
Music: I’m getting older with every memory I make (Spotify)
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Always? No. Not always.

Fast as you can

Her: Have you always been such an asshole, Logan?
Me: Always? (thinking) No. Not always.

It’s been a busy – and rough – few weeks. Trying to sort it all out.

Like always.

On a related point, I was in a car with another woman from my past the other night, well past midnight.

We weren’t so much talking as she was yelling at me, unabated.

Not that it wasn’t deserved. People have always been a mystery to me; when emotions are involved, all the more so.

And with this woman, that relationship ran every single emotion in the book. Neither one of us were angels but I’m definitely not proud of myself for a lot of it.

Her: Get out.

It was a long trip back.

Wrote her an email apologizing for how things went down with us but didn’t hear back from her, which I expected. I’m not sure I’d write me back either.

She teared up in the car and I wanted, desperately, to give her a hug. But, instead, I just sat back, afraid to make things even worse.

Which would be, admittedly, impressive because it was fuck-all already.

FWIW, I never intend to hurt anyone but it seems that’s what I’m best at. Like I said years ago, I’m the skillest with my sharp objects. The killest with my blunt instruments.

My weapons of choice are a sharp tongue and blunt words.

I’ve only gotten more skilled since then, what with all the trauma.

My last serious girlfriend before Alison called me a monster. Maybe Alison was an outlier, who never saw me as I really am.

Suppose I’m grateful for that.

Have you ever heard Fiona Apple’s Fast as You Can?

There’s a line that goes, Fast as you can, baby, scratch me out, free yourself. Fast as you can, baby. Run, free yourself of me.

That sounds like a good plan for her and everyone else. I’m great at glib relationships, shit at important ones.

Except with Alison, for reasons I’ll tell you all about one day. Maybe.

But she’s no longer here. So, what about the kid? He can’t scratch me outta his life and Alison’s not here to counter-balance my beast.

I’m not good with people in any meaningful, normal way. How can I make it so that the kid is?

In a Tree Grows in Brooklyn, the mother is terrified the kids will grow up like her alcoholic husband.

I’m terrified the boy will grow up just like me.

Location: a few days ago, the middle of nowhere Brooklyn at 2AM
Mood: resigned
Music: My pretty mouth will frame the phrases that will disprove your faith (Spotify)
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The hard nos and the quiet moments

It’s only the quiet moments that matter

Her: And you?
Me: Twice, I think.
Her: What happened?
Me: The first girl wanted to stay, but couldn’t. I wanted her to stay, too. But wishes are just that.
Her: Oh. (later) And the second?
Me: She wanted to go, so she left.
Her: Did you want her to stay?
Me: (shrugging) She didn’t, so it doesn’t matter. People are who they truly are in their quiet moments. It’s only the quiet moments that actually matter. Because we’re made in our sleep and by our lonely.

The older I get, the less willing I am to deal with other people’s nonsense.

But, I’m finding out that this is pretty much the same across the board.

As I mentioned in my last entry, my friends usually hit me up to either discuss dating in general – men and women – or ask me to help them out with their profiles and/or messages.

One friend I find particularly hilarious. He literally has a spreadsheet of hard nos that he goes through with each and every one of the people that he finds remotely interesting.

Here are just a sampling of his Hard Nos

      1. Any of these pictures in the profile:
        • Most pics are them doing outdoorsy stuff and/or traveling
        • Pics of them golfing or scuba diving
        • Large tattoos
        • Pics of them with dog(s)
        • Pics with ONLY dog(s) and no humans.
        • Expensive looking lifestyle like in a private jet
        • Not smiling in any pic
        • Pics where they’re in the middle of eating something such as a large turkey leg or huge sandwich (I don’t have this problem, at all)
        • At a gun range, aiming / shooting a gun or a rifle
        • Only ONE photo and it’s of them wearing a face mask
        • More than one photo of JUST scenery or some landscape
        • More than one photo where must ask “which one is her?”
        • Photos where they are deep sea fishing and holding up a large fish they caught
        • Large set of photos where she is either not identifiable (back to camera, taken from far away so they’re tiny, etc) or not even in the photo
        • Photos of them kicking some guy’s ass in martial arts class (I definitely don’t have a problem with this)
        • Pics where they are on a motorcycle (obvs not a stopper for me)
        • Photos are only shoulders & above—none below
        • There is only one photo and it makes no sense
      2. Christians
      3. Beach lovers
      4. Golfers
      5. Attorneys (I think I may exclusively date lawyers in the future, frankly)
      6. Anyone that puts down their Myers Brigg and the third letter is a T – logic, versus F

And I thought I was picky!

My buddy says that he goes on far fewer dates but, the ones he actually goes on, he feels are more likely to last.

I think I’m the same way in that general concept. I get a lotta applications, but I send out only a handful of acceptance letters.

As for me, I have my own particularities but one clear red flag for me is when someone brings up how much they hate their ex or someone in their lives because I find that it’s usually the exact opposite of what they say.

Her: You have a lot of secrets.
Me: Yes. Because I’m very good at keeping them.
Her: Like you keep me a secret?
Me: Only because you asked. And I do as instructed.

Location: earlier tonight, in the rain just outside Union Square
Mood: content
Music: I started over again (Spotify)
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Cyrano de Low and the Siege of Melos

Yo-Yo, the Philosopher

Back before I met Alison, I recall writing emails to women on behalf of my friends, or – at the very least – editing them.

Now, with everyone texting these days, I find myself being asked by friends to respond to messages from women. It’s all pretty amusing for me, gotta say.

I was trying to explain to one friend that communication isn’t just what you say but what the listener/reader hears.

To further drive the point home, I told him something that I tell my friends alla time but also gave him two versions of the same concept: The first is by Thucydides during the Seige of Melos and the second by a kid called Yo-Yo in my junior high school.

 

On a related note, a young woman in my gym is going back to college – an ivy league – and wondering what she should pick as her major if she wants to go to law school.

Been telling her that, if that’s the case, she should really consider philosophy and read more from people like Thucydides – although, admittedly, he’s more of a historian than straight philosopher.

I actually never took any philosophy classes as an undergrad and it’s a regret of mine.

As for my own dating life, I saw the Acrobat and the Counselor recently, which is always entertaining, conversation-wise and otherwise.

Me: (noticing her ordering an open drink) Aren’t you concerned about roofies?
Her: With you? No. Not even sure I’d object. No wait, I would. I’d want to be awake for that.
Me: Noted.

The Counselor was actually in my area doing a cold sauna, for people with inflammation (everyone has inflammation to varying degrees).

The concept is to step into a super cold – negative 140 degrees Celsius – room and just be there for three minutes.

She was part ice cube when I met up with her.

Her: It was so cold, Logan!
Me: (laughing) I can imagine.

We ended up going to the Dublin House, which I’ve actually never been to, despite it being only a few blocks south of me and one of the oldest bars in NYC with a really cool neon sign that was recently rehabed.

Me: You should take advantage of me while you can. These looks won’t last forever.
Her: (shrugging) I figure that if you were going to fall apart, it would have happened already.

The Dublin House was cool but without air conditioning so we went to another of my usual bars around the way.

This one had both air conditioning and candy all over the place. Unfortunately, I’m dieting for a couple of things coming up so I ended up trying to hand the candy to other people so I wouldn’t be tempted.

We’ve both been so busy that we’ve not actually seen each other in a while so we ended up chatting most of the evening.

Her: My last boyfriend was closer in age to my dad than me.
Me: No kidding. What was the age difference?
Her: (thinking) 15 years?
Me: Wait, that’s the difference between us.
Her: Oh! You’re right. I forget.

Location: sitting in front of a 14TB external USB drive at 5400RPM and an 8TB external USB drive at 7200RPM with a USB-C hub and wondering if I should shuck both, and then swap the internals.
Mood: super tired
Music: Fell in love with a girl who’s a few years younger (Spotify)
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I have weapons too

A birthday party with Paul

My buddy Paul moved close to me in the UWS years ago but I hardly saw him.

Nothing happened between us so much as life happened to us, individually. Plus COVID.

He knew Alison really well – in fact, he was there when we met, when we dated, and everything afterward. Until she died.

I remember asking him if Alison was attractive because I thought she was so beautiful that I thought I might be seeing things.

He told me she was. That’s happened exactly twice in my life.

In any case, whenever I thought of him, I thought of his wedding, which Alison couldn’t come to because she was pregnant with the boy and didn’t want anyone to know.

And then everything turned to shit. He did nothing wrong at all.

Like I said, I was avoiding people from my old life for a while after Alison died because everything reminded me of her and I wanted to forget.

But, because I don’t hit the grief button as often as I used to, I’ve been slowly seeing my old friends again.

He invited me to his kid’s birthday party the other day and the boy and I went.

Boy: Will I know anyone there?
Me: Maybe. But there’s pizza and cake.
Him: OK!

Weirdly enough, ran into a fella that went to my old gym that we used to call The Chessmaster. He was a really good fighter but was tactically very good as well.

He moved to the hood too. It’s funny how many people move into my area.

There’s a spot in Central Park, the Bethesda Fountain, where if you sit there long enough, the entire city walks by. – Fools Rush In

Afterward, the boy and I went on another bike ride around the park.

I wonder what, if anything, he’ll remember of these moments.

Him: Papa, look! A raccoon.
Me: Man, you have some good eyes, kid.

Did manage to catch up with the Counselor the other night near her pad, though.

Me: Before I come in, you should know that I’m armed.
Her: (shrugging) It’s fine. I have weapons too.
Me: (laughing and handing them to her) Noted. Please don’t stab me.
Her: I can’t promise that.
Me: Fair.

I had injured myself yet again at my gym, this time my knee.

Her: Do you want me to wrap it for you? I’m pretty good at it.
Me: Why is that?
Her: (shrugging) Cheerleader captain. You have to know this kinda stuff.

She propped me up on a knee brace she happened to have and put an icepack on my knee.

Me: I gotta say, this is one of the weirder dates I’ve been on.
Her: (laughing) Rum?
Me: (looking at her bottle) That’s like moonshine.
Her: This is what I grew up on.
Me: Well, ok then.

She gave me back my scarf too.

I think I’m making progress. A little.

Location: earlier today, unwrapping dinner for the kid in the gym
Mood: hopeful
Music: You told me I was selfish (Spotify)
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Grief and I are old friends

Falling in love, repeatedly

The boy’s away for spring break so I’ve been catching up with people when I can.

Before he left, though, I went to his school for career day.

Me: OK, so I have few jobs I do. I’m a lawyer, I run a building, I own part of a gym, and I teach people how to fight. Which one do you…?
Kids: Fight!

That made me laugh. The boy looked so happy and proud of me, I coulda burst.

This fella – don’t remember who – once said that you don’t just love your kids, you fall in love with them. I’ll add to that: Repeatedly.

Gotta say, that’s spot on.

Him: Thanks for coming, papa!
Me: Sure. Thanks for being glad I came, kid.

 

Met someone recently that I’ll call Heidi. In many ways, she reminds me of Daisy; dealing with a lotta things, ranging from simple heartache to some serious horrors.

Her: It’s sweet that you’ll listen to a stranger. I’m sorry I’m crying.
Me: After my wife died, strangers listened to me. So, I figured I’d pay it forward. And you should never apologize to anyone for your honest emotions.
Her: Whatever happened with the last girl?
Me: (shrugging) We were awful to each other, in our own ways. I suppose –  not that it’s an excuse – that we were both trying to survive. Which is what you’re trying to do now: Whatever you need to do to survive.
Her: That’s the first helpful thing anyone’s told me.
Me: Unfortunately, grief and I are old friends.

Saw the Acrobat, briefly and I’ll just keep the details of that to myself. We’re both unmoored in the world, but for very different reasons.

I suspect we’re all looking for home, but she’s a leaf in the wind and I’m a ship on the waves.

Because of that, what we want for ourselves are two very different ideas of home.

Sunday, it was my birthday.

I’m 40-freaking-nine. I cannot believe it.

Him: Honestly, you’re like a vampire, Logan. I don’t think you’ve aged a day in the two decades I’ve known you.
Me: I always believed that I just aged slower than other people, for a buncha reasons. (thinking) But the last six years aged me more than any other time in my life, I think. So, I’m catching up.

Of course, I did the traditional Chinese breakfast of cooking a six-pound pork shoulder overnight and waking up early to make a Cuban Sandwich for myself with an overly sweet, hot cuppa joe.

Birthday brekkie of champions.

Her: You spent your birthday alone? (laughing) You need better friends. I would have taken you out.
Me: I know. I appreciate that. It’s fine. I’m not sure how good company I’d be, anywho.

My birthday always falls around Easter but this time it fell on Easter. I remembered that Alison made a whole weekend of plans for me once and we caught the Easter parade too.

This year, I wanted to see it alone.

But I didn’t quite make it – partly because Heidi called me, and partly because, I hit the grief button because Heidi called me and I couldn’t.

I was doing so well.

Maybe next year.

Location: home, baking four dozen high-protein chocolate chip cookies for him
Mood: allergic to life
Music: you are flowing like a river, washing right over my soul (Spotify)
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I’m a freaking delight

I’m a goddamn pleasure

Out of everything I did the past two weeks, a few meetings/dates were interesting enough to talk about.

I’ll tell you about two or three of them. The first was with this gamer girl that also fights.

We’d been floating around each other for a while but finally decided to meet up for drinks across the street from my physical therapist’s office.

Me: You’ll have to excuse me, I take pictures of my food and drink that no one ever sees.
Her: Oh, I do too!
Me: Ooooh, lemme take a picture of you taking a picture of the drinks.

No umbrellas in them, unfortunately.

I think we both expected to be out for a short while but the conversation was pretty interesting – I’m always grateful when I’m not bored – so we stayed out until late.

Her: What made you learn how to fight?
Me: (shrugging) The usual, I suppose. I was bullied a lot as a kid. You?
Her: (sighing) What you might imagine. Guys on dates.
Me: Ah, I apologize on behalf of my kind. On the plus side, however, it really lowers the bar for a fella like me. Compared to other guys, I’m a goddamn pleasure.
Her: (laughs) I can tell. At least someone gets some benefit.
Me: Heck yeah – thanks to the average frustrated chump, I’m a freaking delight.
Her: (laughs) I know that song!
Me: OMG, you get two points for knowing it!

She had just come from her gym, and I ‘d just come from mine and we were both a bit peckish so we ordered a small cheese plate so we could drink more.

The waiter was really cool and suggested that I get a Downeast Cider.

Him: (taking can and shaking it vigorously) So the deal with this cider is that you have to shake it really hard because it’s unfiltered and…
Me: (interrupting) OK, when you open it, please point it at her and not me?
Her: (laughing) Hey!
Me: Sorry, lady. This is New York. It’s every man – person – for himself. Themselves. You know what I mean.

The waiter then explained that you have to turn the can completely upside down to pour it.

Him: (later) Did you like it?
Me: What’s there not to like? It was tasty and came with a good story behind it.

The gamer girl and I ended up staying out until it was pretty late.

Me: I’m trying to stay in the golden mean – it’s something I was working on a lot years ago and just recently started up again.
Her: How so?
Me: (thinking) I’ve spent the last several years living in the past or in the future. Not to sound all touchy-feely but I’m trying to live in the present, which I haven’t for quite a while.
Her: Ah, like Ram Dass.
Me: Definitely in that vein. 
Her: (later) I should tell you, though. I don’t know if it’s right to bring kids into a world like this.
Me: So funny you bring that up! I spent an entire meal arguing with a buddy over that exact topic. So, no kids for you?
Her: No, sorry. You?
Me: That’s why I’m here, darling.
Her: (later) Would you be down to just hanging out, maybe come by my school and I’ll go by yours?
Me: Oh man, that’s perfect! I always feel it’s me giving the, “let’s just be friends,” speech.

The rain started coming down hard when we finally called it a (late) night.

Her: Shoot, it’s raining. Should we grab a cab?
Me: (dismissively) Please, I’m always prepared. (pull out umbrella and offer her my arm) Shall we?
Her: Lets.

I took a picture of us.

Me: We’re a pretty good-looking couple.
Her: We are.
Me: Shame, really.

Some of my fave people/friends are people that I very briefly dated like El, Caligirl, HEI, Lviv, and the Sexologist.

She seems like she’ll still be fun.

Oh man, the ride home was a disaster. Tried to get a cab, none. Subways weren’t working (at all).

Finally got out and managed to snag a single taxi that got me home well after midnight.

On the ride back, I did chat with someone that doesn’t want to be in this silly-little blog:

Her: How was your date?
Me: Entertaining.
Her: (laughing) Is she my biggest competition?
Me: Her? No, she’s fun and I’ll probably see her again, but my front-runner is someone else entirely.
Her: For now…

There’s more but that’s all I wanted to share with you now.

This week’s quieter but only by so much.

Location: 8PM, a local BBQ and gyro spot (CC)
Mood: super busy, on every front
Music: There must be something wrong with you, cuz I’m a freakin’ delight (Spotify)
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Love is the eye of the storm

That’s why I asked

It’s been busy lately, for a number of reasons.

Red: I should tell you I’m married.
Me: That would have been useful information to have prior to this.
Her: We have an open relationship.
Me: I’m glad you found your person. Unfortunately, that’s not my bag.
Her:  I’ve never [had someone just say no].
Me: Life is nothing if not unexpected. I’m a terrible person, to be sure. But I don’t fuck with marriage.

Blue: Do you really want to know?
Me: That’s why I asked.
Her: Both my parents died and I was 16. So it was either leave school or be homeless. I made a choice. That’s probably why I’m [so successful now].
Me: That’s called a “Hobson’s Choice,” because you really had no choice at all. And I’m sorry.
Her: Don’t be. You didn’t do anything. And everything worked out.
Me: (shrugging) I’m sorry because I’m human. And some people’s human experience is much worse than others.
Her: I appreciate that, after all you’ve been through, you still have empathy for others.
Me: (laughing) How could I not? 

Green/White: I was married. Twice. Are you sure you want to hear about it?
Me: That’s why I asked.
Her: (shrugging) The first one, I was just a kid and it ended early. But the second one just ended right before the pandemic. He had his own trauma and the deal was that he would go to therapy after we got married.
Me: I assume he didn’t.
Her: (bitterly) No. You can tell I’m still angry about it. Sorry.
Me: Don’t apologize for your genuine emotions. You earned them. So, you’re entitled to them.

White: There wasn’t a straw in my drink.
Me: OK. (thinking) Ah, you think I put something into it.
Her: Well…
Me: (taking a sip of her drink) If I end up passing out because someone – not me – roofied your drink, just make sure I get into a cab toward the upper west side?

Black: It’s like a job. Once or twice a week, I wake up, switch on an app, answer a few dozen stupid/boring questions from a buncha stupid/boring guys, and then go on with my week.
Me: Ah, modern romance. Where do I stack up?
Her: (laughing) Are you sure you want to know?
Me: That’s why I asked.
Her: Charming. Handsome.  But shallow. Unable to commit.
Me: (nodding) Seems accurate.

Me: Well, I don’t mean this sound overly romantic, but if you’ll allow me to be maudlin and sentimental…
Her: Let’s hear it.
Me: (nodding) The universe, all of reality, is a storm. Love is the eye of that storm; the one bit of peace in an otherwise cruel and dispassionate world that doesn’t give a shit if we live or die. We’re born naked and confused, without claws, teeth, or fur. Nothing. We only survived because someone loved us enough to make sure we did. I don’t get why someone would want less than that. It’s like someone turning down a billion dollars. Yet, they throw away love for stupid shit as if it isn’t the most rare and valuable thing in existence. And that, Counselor, is what I want. Something I had once and was taken from me.

Location: Solas, of course
Mood: exhausted
Music: Put your arms ’round my neck, and your heart on my chest (Spotify)
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personal

A Strange & Complicated Evening Pt 2: Putting on the Mask

Afraid of Yesterday

Me: Technically, any woman I meet is your competition and any man you meet is mine.
Her: (laughing) Oh, Logan…they’re not my competition.
Me: Fair.

It turns out the Counselor was in the same hospital, the same building, the same floor – the same wing – that Alison was during the early part of her illness.

Of course.

Felt that same feeling of “this can’t possibly be real,” that I felt for most/all of her sickness that I hadn’t felt in a really long time. It was an unwelcome but familiar feeling.

Dunno why but, I decided to go see the Counselor and – as if by auto-pilot – made my way from the gym to the Upper East Side.

That’s not true. I do know why I went to see her. There were two reasons, in fact, but more on that later.

Visiting hours were long closed but I managed to convince the guard to let me in after a solid 15 minutes of chatting with her. The truth is a powerful thing and I think the guard knew it would be good for the Counselor (and me) if I made it upstairs.

When I walked into the hospital, I was greeted with the same view that I first saw the day I first went there with Alison in that goddamn ambulance.

It was just missing the Christmas tree.

I walked past the same everything that I did all those years ago and tried to keep it together as I maneuvered my way past several security guards, nurses, and various support staff, alla whom noted that I didn’t have a Visitors Pass a solid hour after visiting hours ended.

I was clearly not supposed to be there. I suppose a bright red leather jacket doesn’t help matters.

But, after all that, I finally made it to her room and walked in.

As always, during times like this, I put on my mask: I pushed all that doubt to the side of my mouth, straightened my back, took a deep breath, put on a big smile, and walked in to see a set of pretty eyes.

Me: This is a terrible date venue you picked, I gotta say.

I settled onto the windowsill and looked out across the river to see the exact same view I saw all those years ago.

Me: (staring out) These windows don’t open all the way, you know?
Her: I didn’t.
Me: (nodding) Yeah. I tried to jump out of them years ago and I found that out.

It got a little darker than that but I was there to try to cheer her up, not bring her down.

As comedy relief, her roommate would let out a hacking cough (non-COVID related) every so often while we were in a deep conversation, which doesn’t sound funny but it was such an odd situation that it was.

There’s more, quite a bit more, but most of that’s her story and not mine to tell, as always.

I’ll just tell you that she’s probably going to be fine.

I was glad I went. Can’t remember the last time someone was that happy to see me. Forgot what it was like to have some kindness. That was probably the most attractive thing about her.

Her: It was sweet of you to come.
Me: (shaking head) No, not at all. I just wanted to make sure you were ok. You should get some rest.

So, that’s the first reason I went. Honestly couldn’t tell you if she was more grateful that I went or if I was more grateful that she let me see her.

The second reason, though, was that I’ve been forcing myself to not think of Alison for…years now. Think I knew that, if I went to that hospital, I’d be forced to think of her and remember her.

And I wanted that.

As I made my way downstairs, everything came rushing back at me at once. The smell of the place, the feeling of dread, it hit me as I felt as if it was December of 2015 all over again. Like it was yesterday.

By the time I got to the ground floor, I went straight to the same bathroom that I threw up in twice before over Alison and did it once again.

Honestly, though, after I cleaned myself off and left, I felt better.

I remembered Alison. I remembered that version of me; the one that was a new father, trying desperately to save his wife he loved more than anything.

Not knowing that they were all already fucked.

My gift, if you will, is to forget. It’s a survival mechanism and part of why I have this blog; because I know I’ll forget things. If I didn’t, I wouldn’t be here right now.

After all, fear is forward, no one is afraid of yesterday.

I walked outside, hopped a cab home, and was neck-deep in my thoughts when the Acrobat called.

Her: How was your night?
Me: You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.

It was a short convo. I was worried about the Counselor, which sounds silly as she’s a stranger to me. But she didn’t deserve anything that had happened to her.

After a while, I shot a text to my mother-in-law asking if she was awake and she replied yes.

So, I rang her and told her what happened.

Me: I try so hard to forget Alison. And I feel guilty about that. But I just wanted you to know that…I loved her so much, mom. (deep breath) I loved her so much.
Her: (gently) I know, Logan. Try to get some rest.

Location: just north of Solas, being tossed out like garbage
Mood: don’t even know how to begin to tell you
Music: I’m gonna need somebody (Spotify)
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