Sunday November 27 2011


My dreams were calm and light until I woke up about an hour before my alarm was supposed to go off. I check my phone. Margot responded to my texts from last night and agreed we could meet up. My cloudy mind is wandering now and I can’t get back to sleep. This whole concept of her having been sexually involved with another guy is all just too startling. It’s a deep blow. Cause I know it had nothing to do with love (she’s not dating him nor does she love him). It’s just cheap sex. And that makes me feel cheapened. I’m aware it’s only the possessive nature taking a stand...

My short dreams switch to scenarios saturated with anxiety...

Orange Juice. Zinc.

All day shift at China Wok.

It’s gonna be alright, Robert. Things like this have happened before and you’ve moved on. Just give it a couple of days and you’ll find peace in your mind.

Proverbs 3:5-6 Trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean not in your own understanding; in all your ways submit to him, and he will make your paths straight.

A steady afternoon for deliveries. The blues of Lightnin’ Hopkins on the stereo entertaining the puddle in my head...

Peanut Butter Bagel. Potato Chip Trio. Honey Green Tea.

Busy dinner rush.

Oh the curse of what we’ve done to each it strips away our sanity and knocks our dignity to the floor. This tug-o-war match never ends. Pulling and pushing—pulling and pushing—hurting and hurting. No one will ever win.

Elliott drives by the restaurant, as I’m about to head off with orders, and yells out, “CHINA WOK SUCKS!”

He hops in and gets a glimpse at what I do...

Elliott: “Chinese people never get divorced.”

Me: “Oh the Chinese are terribly faithful.”


Elliott: “Life works out...”

Me: “It always does.”


Delivering over in the military housing off Birdneck. We notice random boxes and miscellaneous household items scattered throughout the neighborhood, which seemed kind of strange. Elliott cranks up Black Sabbath’s “War Pigs” on the stereo. It’s a fitting soundtrack.

He makes mention how I swerve in and out of lanes and barely halt at the stop signs.

Me: “No regard for the law. China Wok!”

Finally settling down...enjoying Tofu and Mixed Vegetables with Garlic Sauce and Rice.

I drive over to Margot’s place—meeting in the den where we used to spend our time. I just wanted to clear the air and hear her words and have her hear mine. I commence my feelings and perspective on the situation...summing up everything I said to her yesterday but now I’m able to perform it. I found out the other day from her that the guy she’s been seeing and hooking up with is James Duke, the same guy she hooked up with just before Halloween, the guy that comes to poker nights, the guy that’s buddies with Darren, the guy that apologized for shaking things up and then continued to pursue after the fact. I know I have no obligation to her and have no jurisdiction over her personal life but I still feel like I do just because. And I don’t approve of this guy because of his reputation. Everything that I know about him thus far and his aggressive nature on her has not proved he has any intentions that could benefit her whatsoever. I’m just so disappointed that she would be attracted to something like that. She allowed him to push sex on her even when he didn’t earn it. Cheap. Cheap sex. Things get heated really fast—she’s already pissed because this guy has been acting weird and standoffish. And my minor involvement in it hasn’t helped...

She yells and digs up past mistakes that I’ve made, as if mine give her the right to make those same ones.

Me: “So what’s your point? Your excuse is: Oh I’m 22. I’m allowed to be naive?”

I sent a simple message to Mr. Duke saying not to show up at my house again. It was one sentence that I felt was straight to the point because I don’t think I could control myself and would do something I might regret, like get angry and violent. She thinks that’s the reason he’s not speaking to her.

Me: “He infuriates me. He’s a douche bag. He’s a misogynist. He doesn’t’ respect you. He just sees you as some fun girl to hang out with. And now he slept with you and now he can have his trophy on his wall. Like, wow. Big deal. You’re such a man!”


Me: “I’m not trying to ruin things for you. I know we’ve been broken up for awhile. I’m hurt because I still love you. You know I care about you and I hate to see you make these decisions...”

She has the power to be cruel and brutal with her words and her attitude. I hate being the person with a reason to hurt cause that’s not a good place to be when her anger comes out.

Me: “Why do you have to get so angry??!!! Stop pushing me. I’m trying to talk! You just want to bring up every little thing of the past...everything I’ve done wrong!”

With a sinister tone she replies with, “I have lots of ammo baby. Don’t push me.”


She’s aware and conscious of her repeat actions but she feels stuck. And she also recognizes the signs in him that should’ve deterred her...

Her: “And I can’t get upset about it because this shit I should’ve seen happening. I kind of did. And you know what? Whatever. Another one bites the dust. Time to move on to bigger and better things.”


Me: “This is where I’m coming from. For you to experience sex with someone else who hasn’t earned it, something that we held so sacred and special between you and I. There was actually some meaning behind it. We weren’t just fucking. We were lovemaking. And we did it innumerable amount of times. We have plenty to show for. I guess I feel like you really didn’t value sex the way it should’ve been. I feel like when you do have sex with someone else that’s like a big step. For me to know that you’ve done that is like I know that you’ve made a big step forward away from me and maybe that’s why I’m so terrified of it.”

Her: “And maybe I was looking for a big step forward away from you.”

Me: “I guess I understand that.”


Eventually it turns into a sentimental conversation about the future and what she wants. I start to see the fuel that drives her to seek out constant attention from guys or how she dives into people so quickly.

Her: “I don’t want to be alone.”

Me: “You’re 22. You shouldn’t worry about that right now.”

Her: “I have an agenda. I have a life plan. I don’t want to be almost 30 alone. I can’t even imagine anyone wanting to marry me.”

She tears up.

Me: “I feel like in my mind that’s always going to be an option for me. Margot, you’re one of the major serious relationships in my life—even more major than the other ones. You’ve been around longer than anybody.”

Her: “That’s because I’m the most dramatic I’m sure.”

Me: “I’m too sentimental and I have a reason to be sentimental about you. I’m just saying, just because we’re not talking about it seriously doesn’t mean it’s not an option.”

I start laying out the positive qualities I see in her that would make her a good wife...

She’s still getting so depressed about the future and her current state of affairs...

Me: “Life is fun. Life should be fun. You shouldn’t be so depressed about your future. You have a bright future. You can have whatever you want.”

Her: “But I wanted you and you fucking left me.”

Me: “My reasons aren’t just about you. You know that right? I know I need to do this and have more time to do things. I hated having to give this up. I miss it. You come up every day in my head. And it’s all these little things like songs...every time I deliver to this neighborhood I think about you. Or every time I see a fox for some reason.”

Her: “I really like foxes.”


Her: “I don’t want to die alone. I don’t like being alone. I have a lot of love. I want to love someone.”

Me: “I know this.”


I know I have to go. The first time I attempt to leave she acts cold, not offering a hug. We warm up eventually, and then she jumps on my lap and persistently acts cute...

Me: “How come all of a sudden you’re being nice to me?”

Her: “Sour and sweet...I’m a sour patch kid.”


Her: “I miss you...I miss the monogamy.”

Me: “Me too.”


I get up to leave but offer one last embrace while she’s curled up on the couch. I look at her endearingly...

Me: “So angry. So bitter but so sweet. Sour patch kid...”

She looks up back at me endearingly, “I miss your pee pee.”

I giggle.

Her: “You’re so sensitive.”

Me: “I am. Too much though.”

Her: “No it’s cute when you’re sensitive and loving shows.”

I reach in and peck her on the lips...walk to the door. Pause. I look over...

Me: “I’ll always love you.

Vaginasaurs recording at the storage unit...

Stef: “I’m surprised you didn’t bone Margot!”

A bowl of Cheerios with Sugar.

Sleep 5 a.m.

[i] Takato Tamamoto.

1 comment:

renee.regan said...

dang, I just wrote a comment that has disappeared. I was saying don't take rebounding too personally since it's sometimes necessary to create that distance to spark individual progress. She should also worry more about turning into a woman than a wife since a strong woman is happy alone or with their partner in crime. I love reading unfiltered thoughts and imagine your kids will know more than they ever thought possible about you. I'm sure you'd be the type of dad that would tell them anything anyway. Hope your mind unfogs from margot eventually and you get your life back on track.