11.21.2009

Dealing in Dreams

My life has become a modern tragicomedy these days.  Fortunately I'm following the plot and occasionally laughing.

A few months ago I sailed back to Gigante on a whim about a girl.

I was a hopeless case when I first swam ashore here.

They nicknamed me "Shipwreck".

They took me in.

For a while there it all seemed too good to be true...

New Love.

New Life.

New Job.

New Dreams.

A Roof Over My Head.

Steady Sex.

and

Food In My Stomach.
 
 All these gifts stemmed from the same source.  One woman handed this drifting derelict a ready-made existence.

After being given so much, it's no wonder I fell so hard.

Thanks again, Beautiful.

Now, I'm still offered everything but the Love.

People ask me how I'm doing.  I reply, "I can't complain."

My only real dilemma is that in a town of 200 where Lost Love is your Boss there's no way, short of Exodus, of achieving distance.


I see the woman I desire but can't have countless times daily.
The funny thing is after a year of travel, a year of utter uncertainty, I can't muster the gumption to go anywhere.

I've convinced myself that this is a good learning experience.  I've convinced myself that love is a luxury few people can afford to give.

Nevertheless, lately I've been treading water with a cannonball in my chest.

Fortunately I'm strong and the effort feels good.   I know I won't drown.

As I kick and squirm and gasp for breath I can't help but laugh at the absurdity of my situation.

The laughter jars loose the cannonball and I muster a few strokes towards a not too distant shore.

 I don't get too far, however, until the cannons roar and I take another one square in the heart.

C'est la vie.  Bienvenidos.

Max