Saturday, August 29, 2009

Without Marco

I find myself searching for sad songs. Songs that speak of longing and despair which, of course, is utter nonsense. We will only be separated for a week or so, we’ve been apart that long before. This time, though, it is different. This summer has evoked a passion between us that did not previously exist. It has also brought a time of family and friends, and a sense of closeness that I thought I could never experience.

When I went to California to visit my Auntie for two weeks in June, we had been together for five months. I was sure I was falling in love but it was so new to me. Still, I missed him terribly. In July, when we had been together for six months, our relationship progressed to a level of intimacy that most do not experience in their lifetime. I knew then that I was in love and I felt a freedom and a joy that was exhilarating and earth-shaking.

I also felt a disdain from my mother that I knew was there but was heretofore, hidden. She did not want to believe that I was gay, even though she knew it in her heart long before I did. Over the last couple of months, she has spent time with Marco and has learned to appreciate his kindness and generosity. She sees how much he loves me and realises that, with his guiding hand I am becoming the man I was meant to be.

Living together this summer has taught me to be less selfish and to be more forgiving. I have learned to love and be loved. I have learned to accept help and to be proud of my accomplishments.

Marc had to return to his job, but I was in too much pain to go with him. He left this morning and I feel so alone. Of course, it has been a rather gloomy day, sent to me to match my mood. He left three notes for me, one which I will open tonight, the other two when I am again feeling blue. He also left a little package but told me I am not to open it until Monday.

I also tucked a note into his suitcase reminding him of how much I love him and how much he means to me. He found it when he unpacked, but he said he hasn’t opened it yet. He is saving it until Monday, when he won’t have to go to work and will have time to dwell on how much he misses me. I am jealous that my friends have already eaten at the restaurant. They said he was quiet and just a bit sad. The restaurant was busy they said, and Marc had mentioned that he was glad that he didn’t have time to be too gloomy.

I will be flying back next week. I don’t think I could take a long drive just yet. School starts just after Labor Day and I need to get ready. School also means that I will be spending some nights in the dorm. Well, it means that I should be spending nights in the dorm. I don’t think I will, though, unless the pressures of exams and papers preclude being with him.

This will be an interesting week. I will spend time contemplating the great love of my life and my luck in finding him before I could screw up. I can’t surf or swim because of the broken ribs, but I can sit and type. I guess the blog will progress as well as the novel. Unfortunately, I will only be writing the depressing scenes.


Anonymous said...

Why were you afraid you might screw up? This seems to be a recurring theme in your writing.

Anonymous said...

What is going wrong?