Saturday, March 12, 2005

I Was Making Good Time

I was making good time up the highway. It was getting onto late afternoon and the setting sails of the brilliant day were clearly visible in the sky in the west. I was later than I intended, meant to leave earlier.

But then, I had weirded out when my mum called to say she had lunch ready and where was I? I was happy smoking dope and I let the machine take her call. I called her back, part of my act rather than procrastination theory, and said I didn't remember organising lunch. She said I'd cut the lawn, that bit I remembered, I stumbled on that point. I said I had committed to the country weakly, feebly. She said I didn't have to come if I didn't want to. I said I didn't want to and it was done. All but the guilt I felt for the rest of the day, burning quietly on the back burner, almost unnoticed.

So I’d swung over to her place on the way and had a cup of tea with her. Alone there for the whole, long weekend. I went despite the fact that I was seeing a play with her on Monday. Well, she gave herself to look after me selflessly. I had to keep it up. I couldn’t slacken off.

I came across the Bolte Bridge and marvelled at modern road making, when I was in Ascot Vale, from Camberwell, in 10 minutes. It was like only being 10 minutes from the city as a kid, because of the, then, modern South Eastern Freeway, twenty years previously. That’s the nature of big cities, they change.

I wondered if I should take the Racecourse Road exit and just drop in and surprise him, as the Racecourse Road exit flashed by.

Into fifth gear, there is nothing like it to tell me that the escape is near on complete. The city fades away at the back of me and it was just rolling hills in front of me to look forward to. Sit back and enjoy the road unfold.

I was making good time up the highway, the traffic was light, the sun was bright, as I drove into the long shadows, the country with its fingers stretched right out.

I better call him, I thought. Nothing for five days. Zip. Zilch. That was unusual, maybe it was a test? I giggled, as I thought to myself. He’d said a couple of times that it was he who always had to call. It’s very hard to get a call in when you are being rung every day.

I picked up the phone and dialled.

I had decided to dump him, in a sense. A gentle come down, slowly. Stopping calling, so much. Disentangle gently, I didn’t want to break his heart. For everything that was nice about him, he really was only getting in the way of someone better. Harsh, but true.

I want the real deal, or at least the capacity of that, if that’s what I decide I want. I at least want the capability, which he doesn’t have. I want him to be there ready, if I decide I like it. You know, be able to fall if I want to. The anticipation, at the very least. Convince me. The position is wide open, all you have to do is take it. Be able to take it.

Hello.

Hello... Josh?

Yes. How are you?

Surprised. Surprised to hear from you.

If I was anywhere near being with the right person, I wouldn’t be hearing those words, I thought.

Why? I said.

I’m surprised to hear from you. I thought you’d moved on, like I have, it’s been so long. I thought you’d got sick of all the other talk, about you know who.

It’s only been a week?

Oh, Josh, Josh, Josh, he said.

Didn’t you think you’d ever hear from me again?

No. I only answered then because I thought it was Angelo calling. He and Dino are coming over to watch DVD’s.

But, of course, I thought.

Suddenly I felt all the joints of the day flush red and hot in my face. The sun sparkled like crystal and “The Simpsons” clouds floated by in the brilliance of the late afternoon glow. Sunshine fell crisply over the bonnet of the car.

You know when you want to tip toe away again, have the preceding minutes erased, just like that, click of the fingers and be back again before the deed was done. That was how I felt connect mistakenly, as I drove away. I just wanted to snatch myself away like a giant elastic band. Zip. Rewind.

It had all been taken care of and instead of stumbling away as it had all been set up for me to do, I stumbled back again. Unknowingly. Unwittingly.

Who thinks a relationship is over after a week of not hearing from each other?

He told me he had been hanging out with the other guy, that is what he does now.

All I have to do is walk away? He really does just want to be looked after financially. I should set him free.

All I have to do is spend the next week stoned off my bonce and I won’t even feel the pain. How funny is that?

The dope was making me mute from thought. I wanted to hang up. Say I gotta go. I’ll see ya. “I see,” I said. Still thinking.

Silence.

Are you all right? He asked.

Ah... yes... I said. Fine.

So, you been good? I haven’t spoken to you since you went out last Saturday night taking drugs. How did that go?

Yeah... good, I said. I want to hang up, I thought. I gazed down the ribbon of bitumen in front of me trying to process.

Where are you? He said.

Oh... on my way to the country for the long weekend.

I’ll let you go then, he said.

Yeah, I’ll go.

See you soon, hey?

Yes.

I hung up.

It was clear. Remarkably. Ridiculously. Bloody hell? I was right all along, I just didn’t know it until that point.

Disposable boyfriends, just like that. I was right to want more.


The message on my phone beeped. Nick wanted me to call, that’s what the message said.

What happened? Where are you? I thought you were coming around? It’s exhausting keep it up for this long. Sexy laugh.

 

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