I lost myself inside a raging night upon my return. And then I wandered the fringes of a sour city to help process the enormity of the day left behind.
All around me, pockmarked streets lingered wrong. The ones still broken from the day before. Soaked asphalt reflected back the smell of thawing garbage. Arguments echoed through the unseasonable dankness of urban disenfranchisement. And those words carried, making everything sticky.
I found myself traversing unstable territory. Ripping wild along the river. Down past where the fish are laddered across the damning damming of this Capital City. Intentionally crossing functional borders, like I once did, back when I was fearless. And took foolish pride in how stealthily we ran those ridges.
But that was a lifetime ago.
Things are very different now; I had to find new places to run. Because to hesitate would be to surrender. And I wasn’t yet willing to accept that capitulation. Despite teetering on the precipice of exhausted collapse, I knew I had to keep moving.
And today, it was all the way down to her city.
I slipstreamed out of the loop of the Capital right after she called. Ignored the ferocity of the storm the moment she said she needed me there. Raced head on through a wet December just to get to her—why is there always so much fucking rain?
Maybe it was intended to be my delayed baptismal. The overdue cleansing not aggressive enough to actually wash away the transgressions. Because risk has been the only real reward left to win in a lifetime of sin. And trust me, there has been no shortage of sin in need of that absolution.
But maybe it would be enough to wash away the stink of those 137 miles. The miles measured from a front-facing broken boulevard door to the satellite parking space clinging to the fringes of that medical complex. The one expanding aggressively on the southwest side of her city.
It was admittedly a strange place to meet. But we are both strange creatures. Ones used to doing things in our own, unconventional ways.
We sat together and counted the cars. Played silly parking lot games with the passing faces of strangers. Postponed actually acknowledging that clinic designed to pump poison. Because we knew once that threshold was crossed, the story would shift. As long as we sat together in the indifference, her future was still hers.
She grew quiet when that song hit the playlist. Turned away and faced the rain racing down a window fogged up from our playful exhalations. A few tears trailed down a cheek that was confusingly both pale and flushed. Small fingers gripped the wheel in front of her. They pulsed alternately white and pink.
I could sense her anxiety; I could feel her fear.
It made me want to marry her.
I asked softly if she wanted a hug. She gently declined. I asked if she wanted me to be a dinosaur. She laughed through the tears and responded with a resounding “fuck, yes!”
I playfully replied that I was only joking. Teasing her. Though initially disappointed with the deception, once she realized my arms were in fact slowly curling up into “dinosaur mode,” she giggled.
Channelling my best inner Tyrannosaurus Rex, I spontaneously roared at her. She jumped. And squealed for more.
My dino claws comically fumbled for the door handle. She playfully tried holding me back. But I persisted, eventually spilling out into the clinic parking lot. And immediately began roaring at bewildered strangers.
Through an unrolled window she both cheered me on and pleaded with me to return to the car. A car which had been rocking first from my powerful dino attacks and then later, from her laughter.
Tears of delight had replaced the ones born of fear. And in the spontaneity of that goofy moment, I saw her not as victim. Or even as the strong, independent woman that I’ve loved for the better part of my life. Instead, I glimpsed the pure innocence of a gentle little girl. One still unbroken by the weight of a terrible world. One I would slay dragons to protect.
For the moment, nothing but the ridiculous existed. There were no scheduled appointments. No poisons. No grim explanations of terminal finality looming in the conversation. There was just a silly boy doing his best to impress a pretty girl with his dinosaur imitation.
I pretended to attack a Prius, a battle I am proud to say I won handily. She howled. I simulated confused mating rituals with a light pole. She lost her shit. And when I stormed after that white pick-up leaving the lot, the one I’m sure was confused by what they were seeing in their rearview mirror, she laughed so hard she admitted to peeing a little. And begged me through joyful tears to bring my dino rampage to an end.
It was admittedly one of my proudest achievements. Because for a few moments, she felt neither pain, nor fear. And that’s a pretty damn good deal in exchange for driving 137 miles through the rain just to play pretend dinosaur.
When I rejoined her in the car, she hugged me tightly. Whispered her sincere gratitude for having made her laugh in the face of such a shitty situation. Because at the end of the week, when she has that next appointment, she will be able to think of the fun that we had there together. It somehow made the sprawling rigidity of that medical complex a little less intimidating.
And maybe that was enough.
We eventually pinballed over to conveniently located coffee place. Continued our conversation. First through the drive-thru and then back to where recently the Tyrannosaurus Rex roamed.
I asked if she wanted to go in to familiarize herself with the office. She pretended to not hear the question. I was gentle enough to not press.
I guess neither of us were ready for the smell of hospitals in December.
Eventually, the conversation paused. We could only postpone reality for so long. She had to go collect her kiddo; I had to face the drive back to the land of aggressive Q.D. Donut Munchers. She was still trying to figure out how to tell her daughter; I was still trying to figure out how in the fuck I ended up in Michigan.
There were promises to call. A few tears. First from her. And then from me. A hug that neither of us wanted to break. Because it felt safe. And like the home for which I have been searching for far too fucking long.
I felt ashamed leaving. It hit me like a wave before I even merged onto the clogged artery pumping back north. Because most would say it’s an unfixable problem. See the circumstances as an unwinnable battle.
But I’m not ready yet to accept that. Because where there is laughter, there is life.
And today I made her laugh.
