i put on my raincoat to make it rain

Believe me, no one is as disappointed in me as I am, myself.

Over the past nine months, ExA and I had reached a new level, one where our conversation had moved beyond civil to friendly. It started last Autumn when she told me that Fortunato had moved out, but she was hoping they could "work it out." For about a week, i was thrown upside down, not necessarily hopeful that reconciliation was attainable, but that there had been vindication: they had lasted only five years. The conflict that arose in me subsided after only a few days, and for the first time since the divorce, i saw that we weren't meant to be together.

How many times have i said that, in this blog, to myself?

Numerous. And while there is a finite quality to the statement, each time it is said, i believe it more and more. Where years ago, i needed to know why i was rejected, i have, in moments of peace, realized that there may be no answer, or that no answer will give me what i want. Feeling less and less plagued, i was free to give myself completely to Noire.

In May, she sent me a text, after i picked up The Land and The Sea one night. It is the most caring thing she has said since the separation and divorce. Acknowledgement, then dismissal.....her usual disposition.

i confess i fantasize about having THAT conversation: she makes some overture to regretting that we're not married, not better friends. They are pathetic, and they keep me going.

A couple of months ago, i had to help The Sea find a pair of boots at ExA's, and was stunned to find a photo of Fortunato still on the wall, although she was seeing someone else. My dispassionate mind reminded me of how quickly all traces of me were removed from the house after the separation. i thought of it no more, put it in perspective: don't know...one of my favorite meditation phrases.

Tonight, as i lay in bed with The Sea, she complained about how tired she was, as ExA had taken them out for dinner to celebrate The Land's last day of school, and mentioned that Fortunato joined them. i don't know why it happens, but there went the world again, and all i wanted was that bridge railing again, to prove i didn't mean for it to be a mistake.

Instead, i went for a ride through my old neighborhood, the place where all answers are, but still hide from me. Some day, they will rise up to greet me, and in them i will find out why i am who i am: discontent, melancholic, and insular.