[i]
Waking up at 1:14 p.m.
Grapefruit. Honey Bunches of Oats with Almond Milk.
Errands.
Kale Arugula Tomato Salad with Balsamic Honey Dressing, Almonds, and Cranberries. Roasted Tomato Bread. Maple Leaf Cookies. Honey Black Tea.
Watching The Patriot (2000).
Ana and I go to the neighborhood gym, The Escape. Running the treadmill and lifting weights. Side by side doing sets. The fact that she doesn't like to be told what to do comes out a little bit but in a fun way.
Back at the house. I cook some Red Snapper Fillets with Rice. Darren made a Butternut Squash Soup from scratch. Ana and I enjoy dinner together at the table. Later, Will comes over. It's supposed to be Movie Monday night. Stephanie isn't attending because she's in the process of moving out. But that's a whole other story.
Putting on Charlie Countryman (2013), starring a more mature Shia LeBeouf. Darren lies on the yellow couch snuggled up with Sophie. Will, Ana, and I take the red leather couch. I'll quote a Rotten Tomatoes critic about the film: this "movie zigzags drunkenly between action-adventure and surreal comedy with some magical realism slopped over it like ketchup." Even thought the critic gave it a splat review I enjoyed the movie's mixture of genres. Charming and emotional.
In my room Ana lies on the bed wrapped up in her thick white jacket. I try to instigate a practice of the songs we sing together but her lack of enthusiasm is too apparent. This confuses me because we had already planned to do this at some point tonight as we're supposed to perform at the 1435 house show this Wednesday. Something's wrong with her and even though she's transparent I can't decipher the real issue. I know she's been dealing with a lot on her plate this month, e.g. quitting her job and getting a new one, seeing the doctor and acclimating to this hormonal medicine with multiple side effects, stress in our social circle. I understand and know all these things but she's still unwilling to really discuss them with me unless I pull it out of her. The biggest reason why she's apprehensive to sing with me on Wednesday has to do with physical appearance. The medicine is sort of draining her overall confidence. In my opinion I think she shouldn't be taking it. Antibiotics screw up the immune system and all that. I express my frustrations about her unwillingness to tell me what's on her mind. I know she understands where I'm coming from but it's hard for her to reveal that first light. Things get a little emotional as she stays curled up under the bookshelf, "Ana's Corner" as we adoringly established long ago. I comfort her with my arms. We stand up. She leans into my chest, which feels firm after the workout earlier.
I start swaying us and ask nonchalantly, "You wanna dance?"
She giggles. We slowly move left to right in the middle of my bedroom to no music or melody, like the rocking of a child in her mother's arms. She opens up and apologizes for closing up.
...
We migrate to the bed.
"Alright turn over," I tell her.
I thought massaging her back would help alleviate the stress. I glide my fingertips along her bareback and squeeze her neck and shoulders. After a good while of this it turns into sex. God knows this alleviates the stress also. We're comfortable now.
[i] Charlie Countryman Still.
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