A Glass of Ennui
We had just finished a bike ride around the North Austin neighborhood loop. Things were not great between us. I was surviving a prolonged depression, unemployment, and her.
She was buoyant and jovial as we stopped at a Tex-Mex joint for a comfort food dinner.
“I am not feeling good about things,” she said. Smiling.
“Okay.”
“Let’s get a round of margaritas first.” She flagged down the hustled waiter and ordered some drinks, She didn’t like chips and queso so I was starting to feel a loss coming on.
“I really do love you,” she said, taking a swipe at the salty rim. I got some kind of orange-colored special margarita. “But, things have got to change.”
As it all spilled out, she ordered us another round. I was only half-finished with mine. She did love to travel. It was her brand. She was known as the CRM Brand Girl. And she was badass at what she did. A marathoner, the VP at an international tech firm, and a road bike enthusiast who left me sitting in the saddle watching her speed away up every single hill.
“If I have to pay for your travel as well,” she continued on a later Sunday mid-morning, post-coitus. “I’m not going to be able to travel as much. I don’t think I’m willing to make that tradeoff anymore.”
She said I could stay until the end of the summer. This was in March. She had purchased a townhome where we were going to make our future with my two kids up in rooms on the second floor. And she was quite fit. So there was that gratification that I was not immediately ready to give up. I think she said that I could stay, so we could both have sex on Sundays, until the end. I’m not sure what the end was. But September was going to be the changeup.
I did stay for a few weeks. I was in a mixed state. An in-between state. A state of flux. I was depressed and lost. And now, I had to contemplate how to move out of the townhome without a job or cash in the bank. We both knew what that meant.
It was on the tennis court a few weeks later, when my longtime hitting partner and best friend said, “I’ve got a truck. I can help you move out this weekend.”
She’s married now, living in New Mexico, to (wait for it) a poor musician. Guessing she got over the travel a lot but alone vs. travel with someone you love. In my mind, there was NO COMPARISON. In her mind, often somewhat cocktail-altered, her independent travel was a convenient excuse. It made sense. Her marriage and move to NM was unexpected, but hey, no shade at her for moving upward and onward.
Read more Short-Short Stories from John.